Fair
by chocolateblood
Summary: Sometimes, when the perfect small town existence becomes too much, there’s always the safe anonymity of the county fair. COMPLETE
1. Emma and the Muscle Machine

Chapter One  
  
It was early on a Friday of a hot summer weekend, as Marron Chestnut drove along a byway, that she saw the first sign at the side of the road. She read it lazily.  
  
Ten miles to Apricot Fair Acrobats, Troubadours and Contest. Come one. Come all.  
  
It seemed to Marron that every county had a festival going on at sometime during the year. The festival in Marron's own county in central Mango would take place in less than a month. When she'd said she was taking two weeks off, her committee had hit the roof.  
  
"Marron, you can't do this to us!" they indignantly complained.  
  
"I've done all the preliminaries," she protested. "None of you has to do anything."  
  
"But you're young, Marron. You're not married and don't have any kids and you don't have to work so you have the time." There was something accusing in their tones but no indication that they felt any guilt in taking advantage of her.  
  
"And I'll be back in time to finish up," she'd promised.  
  
She might just as well have lain down on the floor and let them actually walk over her.  
  
She realized she'd been a floor mat. It seemed as if everyone in the town of Peach relied on her to do their errands. Marron had never had any real control in her life. She had never done anything on impulse before. She always worried about what other people would think.  
  
It was true; she supposedly did have free time. She didn't have to work because of the income from the family farms. She had lived alone in the family house, and she had always felt needed rather than used - until just recently.  
  
"Marron, it's time you were married," one Peach busybody informed her. "Sharpener is just the man for you. He's nicely situated and would be a fine husband. You're not getting any younger you know."  
  
She knew. At twenty-seven she had no prospects other than Sharpener, and she wasn't sure she wanted to marry Sharpener. But who else was there?  
  
In the last seven months she'd become restless and discontented with a strange, lonely yearning. It wasn't only at all like her to tell old Mrs. Lunch, "Come on, I don't have all day," when she knew perfectly well the weekly outing was precious to the elderly woman.  
  
She'd known Mrs. Lunch would take all morning with her errands. Marron's patience had snapped as she stood out in the late June sun in the grocery parking lot and listened to Mrs. Lunch tell the carry-out boy how to woo his girl. Marron had said the words before she realized what she was about.  
  
She was so horrified she meekly listened as Mrs. Lunch scolded her for her manners, questioned her upbringing and finally paused for Marron's apology, which she gave. Then she explained to Mrs. Lunch she was feeling out of sorts and.  
  
Mrs. Lunch sternly retorted, "That's no excuse, Marron. It's just a good thing your mother is dead and can't hear you."  
  
"Mother's in New York."  
  
"What's she doing there?" Mrs. Lunch was indignant.  
  
"She met her new husband, Yamcha, three years ago, on tour."  
  
"And she's still there?"  
  
"Remember? They were married here in the church."  
  
"I don't recall that! Why would she leave Peach and marry someone from New York?"  
  
"Probably to escape," Marron muttered.  
  
"What? What did you say?"  
  
"They're living on a cape," she substituted. "In Maine now. On the Atlantic Ocean."  
  
"Juuhachigou was always a flighty girl. Unstable." Mrs. Lunch sniffed in disapproval and gave Marron a telling glare.  
  
There went another sign about the Apricot fair being only five miles away.  
  
Marron's mother had "escaped." Escape was a taunting word to Marron. Did she want to. escape? What? To where?  
  
Why did she have to search for reasons to marry Sharpener? Why marry at all? Why was she wandering down the little-used back highways and this narrow byway in search of answers?  
  
Because in Peach no one gave her enough time to sort things out for herself. Perhaps she should go on a tour, like her own mother had. Then she might find a man who would capture her heart, turn her head and change her life.  
  
Two miles to Apricot Fair.  
  
How very brave of her to take off this way by herself. She'd never done that before. She and her car, Emma, had only gone to the short distance of Apple. Marron had named her car Emma because it looked like one. It was small and light blue.  
  
One mile to Apricot Fair. Watch for the arrow.  
  
Sharpener was a nice looking enough man. He would look the same at sixty as he did now looking forty. He was reasonably tall, quite bland looking, with an even disposition. His several kisses had been like unsalted oatmeal. Solid, damp and not at all exciting.  
  
Maybe it was the word arrow in the middle of the arrow, but whatever it was, the cowardly Marron Chestnut looked across the fields at the tents and the wind-fluttered colorful banners and she turned onto the dirt road and went to the fair.  
  
With an odd thrill of something like fright, she realized she was being followed by the powerful black machine. It was eating up the dirt road so relentlessly that, to keep out of its way, Marron hurried Emma along. In tandem, the two cars went down the narrow track to the rolled back fence and onto the beaten down weeds of the field, which served as a parking lot for those attending the fair.  
  
She drove Emma into the space indicated by the fat old man in blue coveralls and a straw cowboy hat. The road hog pulled in beside her.  
  
"That'll be ten zenni for the day, missus."  
  
Apparently, he thought anyone of her age would be married. She didn't correct him but tilted her head up and paid. By the time Marron was out of her car, the occupant of the road hog had already paid his ten zenni. The attendant had lumped on off toward some shade, for although it was still early, the clear July day promised to be hot.  
  
Marron had to walk past the black car in order to go toward the fair. She hesitated to desert Emma, who looked helpless sitting next to such a wicked black car. Emma, a light blue lady, was being left alone next to that black Muscle Machine, whose raw roar had throbbed down to a snarl before it was silenced.  
  
Marron tightened her lips and straightened her back to give a cool look to the driver, showing that she wasn't impressed.  
  
He'd crawled out of the Muscle Machine and slowly straightened. Marron gasped, causing him to stare at her. She just stood there.  
  
No question about it, he was a rake. His hair was a very unusual shade of lavender as were his brows. His eyes were the blue of a mountain lake, and his skin was tanned. He looked like a pirate who wrecked bars in ports around the world.  
  
He was the sky to her sun, with her white skin, blond hair and light blue eyes. She stood stiff and still as she watched him.  
  
Her stomach felt strange. She felt oddly light-headed. She stood there, in her crisp dark blue summer suit, just looking at him.  
  
He was taller than average and dressed in a suit with a white shirt. He had removed his shirt jacket and was undoing his tie to leave them in the car.  
  
His examination of her was serious, as if he was startled by her, and he felt the tingle of attraction. He couldn't believe her. He'd passed her on the street before they had ever left town. He hadn't been able to believe his eyes. She was so lovely. Since he'd had nothing pressing to do, he had decided to let her pass his car and then he would simply trail along. But she couldn't pass him. She dawdled along at fifty miles per hour, and his car couldn't go that slow without stalling.  
  
He'd stopped for gas on a long stretch of road he knew had no turnoffs, and he'd caught up with her easily. That made him smile.  
  
She couldn't be in any hurry, or she wouldn't be driving so slowly and on that back road. She hadn't even glance his way. That had been one of the things that caught his eye. Women usually noticed him. Following her car, he'd watched as her blond head turned to glance at the countryside, and thought how lovely was the tilt of her head on such a fragile neck. What if she was married? He'd know right away.  
  
He, too, saw the signs for the fair, and he saw that she had. Would she go? If she took the turnoff, it would indicate she was on holiday and he could possibly meet her.  
  
A lick of excitement went through him when she turned off the narrow highway onto the gravel road. He knew it had been on impulse because- as precisely and carefully as she drove- she was a little late signaling the turn.  
  
She didn't go past the fair site, but turned in to the field that served as a parking lot. Now she stood there, looking at him! He moved slowly in order to control his body's reaction to her, and to keep from startling her.  
  
He could hardly say, "Forget the fair. Come on over into those bushes with me." That would be a little fast for this one. It would take some preliminaries.  
  
Her hair was skimmed back into a bun, and she wore that kind of dark blue suit that acted as uniform for conservative women. No rings. That only took the briefest glance. Then he really looked at her. She couldn't be real. She probably had a shrill voice and no humor at all.  
  
She was looking back. Was she attracted to him or revolted? So small- boned and prim, with her hair in that prissy knot and her white skin. She looked like a moon maiden. He suddenly thought of her white skin against his.  
  
He might as well find out know if she would respond. If she shunned him, all he'd be out of was the ten zenni for parking.  
  
She watched as his eyes warmed with humor, then his mouth very slowly smiled just the faintest bit, as if he couldn't help it. "Well, hello!" he said. His voice was gravely and brusquely gentle. It went with the sailor/pirate/demolisher part of him. "I wasn't sure you'd make it," he added as his smile widened.  
  
Marron knew he didn't know her. He was flirting with her! Never having flirted with all her days, his words threw her off entirely. She replied, "I. I." She swallowed awkwardly and licked that full lower lip. She had a very small mouth, a nice straight small nose, and her figure was exquisite but cleverly minimized to conceal the fact. She tried again. "I."  
  
His eyes lazy and his lashes lowered just a bit, he asked, "Having summer vapor lock on your vocal cords?" He ignored the clear dry day he explained, "It's the humidity. I know how to get you going. It's a variation on the cable jump." He waited to gauge her reaction.  
  
She opened her lips in a tiny gasp as he grinned more wickedly than she'd ever witnessed before. Excitement went through her rather disgracefully. No wonder mothers warned daughters about men like this!  
  
He'd just said something she knew was very suggestive and she should lift her nose, look at him boldly and walk on past him. How dare he speak to her that way? He was bold. In her protected, isolated life, she hadn't known many men. Actually there'd only been a couple of fortune hunters. and Sharpener.  
  
She should give him a chilling stare, but she didn't. She just stood there watching him in fascination.  
  
He was a stranger. So was she. She would never see him again. They were like ships that passed in the night. She could have a. flirtation with him and be perfectly safe. There were all those other people around.  
  
No one would ever know. She could flirt and tease. Who would ever dream that Marron Chestnut would do such a thing? He was so deliciously dangerous looking. Dangerous in a very tempting way. She wanted to look at him and touch him. How remarkable. She'd never had that impulse with Sharpener or any other man in all her days.  
  
His deep voice said, "I'm glad you came. What would you like to do first?" His eyes laughed at her as if that was a very sensual invitation, as if he'd invited her to choose anything she wanted from him.  
  
He came to her slowly, as if he didn't represent any kind of challenge, and he smiled that wicked, wicked smile that would taunt any woman into being reckless. He said, "I'm Trunks Briefs."  
  
"Marron," she replied shortly.  
  
He gave a little sigh of relief that her voice was so pleasant. How interesting she hadn't given a last name.  
  
She'd already decided on a flirtation. She needed to be casual about it and would just see how it went. She could always leave. Emma was there for her escape if he should prove crude or crowded her with demands. But how did one conduct a flirtation?  
  
He began. "I'm single, footloose and fancy-free. You?" His brows rose in inquiry.  
  
"Single." She said it soberly.  
  
He smiled as if he understood, and he didn't question for a last name. "Shall we?" he asked, offering her his arm as if it were quite normal for him to do so.  
  
Why not? She thought.  
  
He hesitantly tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. Her cheeks were flushed from her adventure, and her eyes sparkled. She said quite boldly, "Lead on!"  
  
With the other cars being driven into the field to park, the couple found themselves walking through a trickling flow of people who were also going to the fair.  
  
Tents and booths had been pitched and erected along one edge of a small lake whose banks were clustered with groves of trees. There was an uplifting holiday spirit in the air. The people milled along, and there was Marron Chestnut on the arm of a very attractive man she would never have the courage to even speak to under any other circumstances.  
  
Perhaps one didn't need to spend the money to go on tour as her mother had, but only to drive several hundred miles from home thought Marron. She was being so confidently casual in the way she walked.  
  
She quickly peeked up at him to see if she'd imagined him, and he was there all right. But now he breathed and he was a physical presence. He was real. He was formidable. He couldn't be a pirate. Pirates were never lavender-haired. They were dark and smoldering, swarthy with a flash of white teeth and the glint of gold in their ear.  
  
However lavender haired he was, he still looked like a pirate. Maybe being a pirate was an attitude? He looked as if he could crouch down and be excessively threatening - and win.  
  
He caught her looking at him and smiled. The blue of his eyes flashed. She didn't know how such an honest blue could be wicked, but it was.  
  
She blushed. She felt the heat on her cheeks and was appalled. She turned her head, licked her lips and took a deep breath. She peeked up to see if he was conscious of her foolish behavior, and she saw that he had glanced at her chest.  
  
In turn she looked down and realized from his height he could see her cleavage. She went scarlet, her body tingled, her breasts pushed against the cloth of her suit coat and little licks of something scandalous touched on places low in her stomach.  
  
She could always leave, she reminded herself. Emma waited. Why should she leave? He hadn't done anything! Why was she getting so paranoid? They were just walking together.  
  
Very naturally, he inquired, "Have you had breakfast?"  
  
She smiled at him as if he had said something clever. "Some coffee."  
  
"No wonder you're so skinny. You need something to eat."  
  
"Skinny!"  
  
"I like my women with a little meat on them."  
  
How he did the "liking" flooded her mind and caused her to blush again. She'd seen a magazine once. The blush deepened just when she almost had herself under control.  
  
With good humor, he asked, "Is it too early for hot dogs? No carnival is complete without becoming slightly ill form hot dogs. Or there's a pancake booth. How about that?"  
  
She was still struggling from the picture in the magazine and didn't know how tightly she clung to his arm. She said, "Fine," and was briefly alarmed as to what she was agreeing to.  
  
They ate pancakes from paper plates and had to use those ineffective little plastic forks. They stood next to high poles topped by round trays on which to put their plastic cups of coffee. It was all delicious. As they ate they licked syrup away from around their mouths and smiled into each other's eyes.  
  
A relaxed and cheerful bunch of people were attending the fair. Marron and Trunks were overdressed. That had been apparent all along, but it became more obvious as they wandered about. There was a booth, tucked between others, with homemade and second hand "pioneer" clothes for sale. The booth was run by women who had gathered and created the garments.  
  
Trunks expected to buy their replacement outfits, but Marron was very firm about paying for her own. They pawed through the stacks and laughed as they chose what they'd buy. She selected a long, dark scooped neck gown with short puffed sleeves held with a thin elastic. The same thin elastic was sewn I rows around the waist in a five-inch band. She chose a big, floppy pale straw hat that had a ribbon across the crown and through the slits on either side so that it could be tied under the chin to shield her fair skin from the sun. She burned badly if she wasn't careful.  
  
He found a pair of cotton trousers with outside pockets and a rope belt, a long vest that was soft, crazy-patched and quilted. Each bought moccasins.  
  
In the back of the clothing booth, they changed in a breezy slitted, almost public cubbyhole divided by an inadequate sheet hung over a slung rope that Trunks could easily look over.  
  
"Turn around!" she scolded.  
  
He turned clear around and laughed.  
  
Feeling very daring, she put the dress over her head and undressed under its skirt. He put his hands on his hips and complained. She bridled quite sassily loved every minute of this strange, reckless adventure.  
  
When she removed her pantyhose, she realized she had nothing on under the dress but lazy briefs. A flood of awareness went through her, and the thought did give her a pause. Then she slowly straightened out her clothes, made a tiny bundle of them and looked boldly at Trunks Briefs on the other side of the now shoulder high divider.  
  
He'd taken off his shirt and stood pulling on the vest, and he watched her as he smiled faintly. He was wearing now just the soft trousers and the long multicolored patchwork vest. His gorgeous body was brown because of his tan.  
  
She was shorter without heels, and he loomed on the other side of the rope supporting the dividing sheet. Hadn't it been higher when they came in? He reached across and touched a finger to her cheek. "You're a darling."  
  
She blushed, of course, but she also smiled. "You look like a pirate."  
  
"Would you like to share my treasure?"  
  
"You aren't wearing any."  
  
He laughed with a rumble of humor before he said, "In one of those booths I saw a ring I plan to win."  
  
She scoffed quite nicely and told him, "They'll take all your money while you try."  
  
"Just wait. You're looking at the champion of carnival midways. I have to search far and wide-" he gestured widely, "-to find one where they don't recognize me. It's like the clever gamblers who are banned in Vegas. When the barkers on the midway see me, terror mounts in the hearts of the booth people as the word spreads across the carnival, "Trunks is here!""  
  
A querulous voice interrupted, "You guys gonna stay in there all day? There are others you know."  
  
Trunks said, "Let's put our things in the car."  
  
So with him carrying everything, they went back to their cars, and Emma was still whole.  
  
"Your car looks as if it might have taken a bite of Emma, but it hasn't," Marron blurted out without meaning to. She turned her usual red.  
  
"Emma?" The humor was in the sound of the word. "Why did you name your care Emma."  
  
"She looked like an Emma," Marron defended.  
  
"You're very interesting." He slammed down the trunk lid and his eyes were almost closed with his amusement. At himself or at her, he wasn't sure.  
  
"Emma is a lady." She was prissy.  
  
He professed with defensive indignation, "So? My car is a gentleman!"  
  
"It doesn't look like it." It was an indictment. "It looks as if it would try to lead a lady astray." Like Trunks could.  
  
"Gentlemen cars only go as fast as lady cars want." He gave her a level look and his voice was deliberately soft, but there was still that laughter in his tone.  
  
She watched him. Had he just warned her to be careful? Or was that a promising type of threat?  
  
He reached into his glove compartment, and removed several items, which he stored in his deep pockets. Then he pulled out a bottle of sunscreen and without asking her, slathered it on her arms and back. He was willing to do her chest, but she did it herself. He watched with interest, and he continued to watch as she did her face before she tied on her hat.  
  
Then he allowed her to reach up to do his nape and ears. She had never touched a man so intimately. Her fingers and palms smoothed the liquid over his skin and she relished the very feel of him. His flesh was surprisingly smooth. Different. Hard.  
  
Her breath shortened so that her lips parted. She was so affected that she paused to consider why she felt hat way. He turned and looked down at her, then took the container from her nerveless fingers to slap some sunscreen on his chest and arms and scrub it onto his face. "This is a burning day."  
  
"Yes," she breathed, and she wondered if the burning would be from the sun. 


	2. Peacocks and Pandas

Fair 2  
  
Thanks to all those who reviewed! I'm glad you like the fic.  
  
I forgot to put the disclaimer on the first one so here it is. Not mine.  
  
He called her Marron and she called him Trunks. They didn't know each other too well to use nicknames. They were strangers.  
  
Although she walked along rather demurely, she knew that underneath that dark cotton, she was almost naked. She wore neither bra nor pantyhose, just that scrap of panties. That was a strange change for her. Who would have imagined the prim Marron Chestnut walking around so boldly in this state?  
  
She began to reason with herself in support of her unusual conduct. The skirt wasn't full enough to be blown immodestly high. That was good. Still, this was a first for her and it just had to happen in the presence of a stranger.  
  
Maybe, it was because he was a stranger that she allowed herself to vary from her usual conduct. She could "safely" be different from her normally rigid self. Even if it meant dealing with this feeling of being acutely aware that she was a female; and that this certain stranger that she was with was definitely a man.  
  
The sights and sounds of the fair came into focus and she noticed that it was a different sort of day. She smiled and decided to enjoy it. Unconsciously, she put her hand in Trunks' as they walked.  
  
He often glanced at her to wonder what on earth was she thinking about. She appeared shy and blushed easily. She was so fragile, and her small hand in his touched something deep within him that he didn't completely understand.  
  
Her physical pull was understandable but there was another tug from her to him. He well knew about men's desire to carry off attractive women but there was something else about Marron.  
  
She was so fair. In his mind he saw that corn silk narrow into fine down at the apex of her legs. After a moment, he looked at her again. Other than one long strand that had escaped loose, her hair was tidily gathered into a bun tucked under the crown of her hat, and the breeze played with the brim. So pale. It was a good thing that he'd had sunscreen - but she needed a stronger blocking.  
  
Back on the midway he found some, at twice the usual cost. He poured the stronger sunscreen on his palm. She dipped her fingers into it and spread the lotion on her face.  
  
As she finished smoothing on the cream, he managed to "find" places she'd missed and touch her face and shoulders with more. She stood obediently and allowed that, having no clue how his thoughts went to other places he wanted to touch. She just lifted her thick eyelashes so her gray eyes looked into his and she smiled.  
  
He thought that even in the long dress, which the breeze molded so nicely to her body, and the big brimmed hat, she looked right enough for a queen's garden party. Her waist was so small he could san it in his hands. Her breasts were plump for woman of her height. He smiled as his gaze went to those curves. He quickly covered such a blatant glance by asking, " I suppose you want to do your chest? I'd be glad to."  
  
Her cheeks pinked and she lowered her lashes. She put her palm out and took more of the lotion for her chest. He used the rest on her back, peeking over her shoulder into her soft cleavage. His gaze steadily on her, he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "See that ring?"  
  
She had no idea what he was talking about. She moved her head, looking for a woman wearing a large ring. "Where?"  
  
"Shhh." He glanced around like a conspirator. He had put his hand on her shoulder then so that he could steady her as he moved her chin just so, and he said he had to whisper all the directions so she could find the ring with her eyes, so no one else would know and covet the ring. "See?"  
  
She wasn't sure what he was talking about. Then he skillfully took her hand and pulled it through the crook of his elbow so that her breast was against the back of his arm. She wasn't even aware of the deliberateness of that move. No one had ever don that to her before.  
  
As if ignoring how close he'd pulled her to him, he confided, "The ring has been lost from my family for centuries. It's magic. Whoever wears it gets any wish he wants. I have to have it back. I especially need it right now. How incredible to find it at last, just when it's so desperately needed."  
  
"Why do you need it?" She laughed up at him.  
  
"To solve a deeply rooted problem." He sighed heavily and rubbed his free hand on his bare chest.  
  
"You're crazy," she said, and laughed a delicious chuckle that did interesting things to him.  
  
He walked her casually back to where the ring lay waiting. It could be won by hitting a sledgehammer to a machine three tomes in a row, causing the bell to sound each time.  
  
Trunks ignored the old barker who was urging a strong man to try his luck. Trunks decided to look bored and uninterested. He even turned to see whom the barker was talking to and was surprised when he discovered it was he.  
  
Marron loved it. She had never in her life giggled before, but now she did. Trunks lifted his brows and leaned his head down to peer into her flushed face and ask, "What's so funny?" That only set her off again.  
  
Trunks allowed the barker to appear to talk him into trying to make the bell sound. He looked up at the bell and shook his head in doubt. He was a wonderful mime. He indicated that there was no way he could hit the bell.  
  
With his eye on the gradually collecting spectators, the old barker again encouraged Trunks. He indicated all the grand prizes just waiting for a strong man to win for his girl. He leered at Marron.  
  
No one had ever leered at Marron. It was a day of firsts.  
  
The "lost heirloom" ring was an ugly thing. A strange green, it was big, lumpy, almost unrecognizable shape in a cheap rimmed setting with a pinched- together, fit any finger split band. It was ridiculous that Trunks wanted it.  
  
Patiently, Marron watched as Trunks' big hands reached for the sledgehammer. He tested its weight and pretended he was having difficulty just lifting it. The barker was smart enough to recognize Trunks as a crowd pleaser and encouraged his antics.  
  
Trunks used both hands to lift the hammer up and quickly bent over as if it was too heavy and had forced him to lean over as it hit the ground. The crowd was pleased. Trunks shook his head in despair, then snapped his fingers, went to Marron and surprised her by kissing her quickly before she knew what he was doing.  
  
Then he lifted the sledgehammer without any problem. Everyone laughed, and the barker then proved he was as great a fellow as Trunks, because he began to discourage Trunks from trying to ring the bell. He stood in front of the prizes, spread out his arms in a protective way and begged, "Don't kiss her again!"  
  
Trunks swung the hammer timidly, went back to Marron, ignoring the pitiful pleadings of the barker not to, and he kissed her again. The crowd cheered, and it grew rapidly, people pressed against one another and necks stretched to see over heads. The chatter and laughter drew other spectators.  
  
Trunks raised his head, smiled into Marron's eyes and looked at her soft parted lips. He stood away, stretched, and taking a deep breath, swung the hammer over his head. The crowd applauded. He made it appear her kisses were acting as a stimulant to his body - which was true - but she felt as if she really had given him strength: hers. While he became stronger and tougher, she was weakened by his kisses.  
  
He became a little cocky, walking around the wire-protected enclosure, smiling at the pitiful old barker, who was offering to return him his money. And he bowed to the cheering crowd. He was magnificent.  
  
Then Trunks turned serious. He judged the weight of the sledgehammer, swinging it in his hands, testing it. He swung it around his head, no longer showing off but concentrating on what he was doing. He ignored all the people around him, the crowd quieted.  
  
Marron became conscious of his muscles. She'd been too wrapped up in her worries before that she didn't notice how they bulged and writhed under his tanned flesh. Even with his moving and calculation, his attention was solely turned on the blow to ring the bell. She reacted to him in swirls of something. a need she didn't understand at all.  
  
He wiped his hands in turn on his soft trousers, which hid no secrets of an athletic male: taut muscles, strong thighs. He gripped the handle of the sledgehammer, lifting its weight, swinging it casually, loosening his shoulders, calculating the swing, and looking serious.  
  
She was so aware of him. He was concentrating completely on something else, but her body was reacting as if his attention was all on her. Then she heard a low, female voice behind her say, "My Kami, would you look at that man!"  
  
Possessiveness clutched at Marron, and she turned a hostile glare over her shoulder. The woman didn't even see Marron. With her mouth slack and her eyes soft, she was watching Trunks. Her friend simply smiled slightly and watched too, as her fingers slid gently on her own throat.  
  
Irritated, Marron looked back at Trunks to see if he'd noticed the women. He was still occupied what he was doing. Then Marron looked around and noticed all the people crowded outside the protective fence. Men were there too, but the women! From the looks on their faces Trunks was lucky he had the high wire fence between them and him.  
  
"Hit it!" one male voice said tauntingly. And the woman behind Marron murmured, "Then put down the hammer and hit me - bodily!"  
  
Her friend only made a hungry, throaty sound.  
  
Trunks swung the hammer, took two long strides, brought the hammer down with a jump and landed it perfectly to ring the bell.  
  
A cheer arose with the sound of one derisive blat in the crowd. Trunks turned his eyes to Marron and smiled with confident arrogance but with that saving humor. She laughed and raised a small fist in victory.  
  
He came to her acting as if he was depleted of the strength to kiss her again. Even as he did, the woman behind her groaned in envy, and the elderly barker said, "No, don't kiss her! I'll be ruined! Think of my pregnant wife and kiddies!" as Trunks swaggered back, powerfully swinging the hammer.  
  
Twice more he swung the sledgehammer to ring the bell two more times. He won the magic ring that gave him anything he wanted, and Marron wondered what would he want.  
  
The barker handed Trunks the ugly ring and laughed at the fact that he could want it. He said, "You've made my day. Take something else too. How about the big panda? No? It'll be good advertising for me. Please."  
  
Trunks turned to ask Marron, "Would you like it?"  
  
She laughed, "No." And shook her head.  
  
So Trunks bit his lip in thought, then sat the panda at the top of the fence and, using the top of a box and a wide felt marking pen, he put a sign on it.  
  
Challenge! Try to beat me. Two out of three. Trunks Briefs.  
  
Just as Marron was thinking Trunks might really be arrogant, he said, "What would I do with a panda that size? Can you imagine me driving with it in the back seat of that black car?" He was so amused. "If I'm lucky, someone will beat me."  
  
But the old barker touched Trunks' arm, and he was so pleased that Marron realized that Trunks could have just given the panda away. This way, there could be more business for the old man as Trunks' challenge was taken up.  
  
The pair moved away to a less crowded place, and Trunks asked that Marron put the ring on his finger, and she did. He told her, "With the magic ring, I'm invincible! I can do any noble deed. Set me a quest."  
  
But he only amused her.  
There weren't too many strangers like Marron and Trunks at the fair. Most of the people were locals who knew each other in varying degrees from next- door neighbors to nodding acquaintances, so the strangers stood out. After the bell-ringing exhibition, which Trunks had maneuvered so cleverly, and with his challenge, Trunks and Marron became known to almost everyone.  
  
There were friendly comments, a few men clapped a hand to Trunks' shoulder, women smiled shyly at him, but there was that one derisive blatter, who was named Uub. He was several years younger than Trunks and as well built, but he didn't have the same sense of humor. He rang the bell, but not three times in a row, and he was grim about the competition. For some reason Uub took it as a personal challenge.  
  
The two strangers went through the tents to view the judging of the baking and crafts, and they decided for themselves whose was best. Trunks bought two quilts. One was a prizewinner, but he insisted that the other was just as good and paid the same amount for it. He couldn't take them off display until the day was over.  
  
One quilt pattern was called Paw Prints and the other was Floating Lilies. These patterns were very appropriate as they mirrored Marron and Trunk's personalities. She didn't know it was a purposeful choice until he said, "I'll give you Paw Prints to remember this day and I'll keep Floating Lilies to remind me of you."  
  
She laughed to think of how such a dainty quilt would look over such a man, but then the vision caught her mind so vividly that she sobered, as strange and unknown sensations skittered over and through and around inside her, at the thought of him naked under hat sweet quilt. She knew he was not a man who slept clothed.  
  
They entered all the contests. She threw a rolling pin on one contest and she tan in a race that required each one to carry an egg on a spoon. And although he gave her his magic ring to wear and kissed her - and watched her movements with narrowed, enflamed, relishing eyes - she didn't win a thing. Gradually, during that morning, the pair colleted a casual interest of cheerful rooters who kindly yelled them on.  
  
Trunks was elaborate in his relief that she threw the rolling pins so poorly, and she laughed. He said, with a lazy casualness, that for the ring to work she would have to be his woman. At the thought of being his, she bit her lip against the sensations that surged inside her. She had to take a deep breath to fight these feelings, but she did not reply.  
  
After a while, word passed quickly to Trunks that Uub had rung the bell three times. It was Trunks' turn. The crowd was friendly and neutral. They smiled at the pair as they went back to the bell. Marron remembered to give trunks the magic ring, and she anticipated the kisses. She realized that she would get three more and she blushed a little at the thought.  
  
He murmured in her ear, "Don't forget, you must kiss me. If you don't kiss me, I will fail."  
  
She scoffed, but not too strongly, "You kissed me but I didn't make it."  
  
He explained gravely, "It's because you don't believe in my kisses - yet."  
  
That wasn't it at all. It was that, after he kissed her, she couldn't forget the kiss and concentrate on what she was supposed to be doing. How could a woman run in a race and hold an egg on a spoon right after Trunks Briefs had just kissed her? Why would she want to?  
  
The crowd that gathered was thicker that before around the protective wire fence that enclosed the bell. Trunks reached out to shake Uub's hand, but Uub just stood sober-faced, hands on his hips, somewhat hostile as he ignored Trunks' gesture. That was the beginning of a slight division of alliances in the crowd. Uub was the local while Trunks was the stranger. That added a little more excitement to the match.  
  
Since the crowd was already enticed, Trunks was all business. He kissed Marron and swung the sledgehammer in testing as he moved about, seriously concentrated and, with studied care, rang the bell with three kisses and three blows in a row.  
  
The crowd erupted in cheers and advice. Uub was advised to rest for a while, and one beer-drinking buddy suggested Uub ring Trunks' bell, ignore the panda, grab Marron and run. That plan had some backers, but Trunks protested with humor.  
  
Because Uub was the man he was, he sized the hammer in spite of the barker's caution to wait a while and he rushed the blow, so he missed the first bell. There were sounds of disappointment from the crowd in the aftermath of that, and in a temper, Uub hit the other two but missed the next one.  
  
Trunks had discretely moved over to the edge of the crowd by Marron and stood silently. He said to Uub, "Next time," and tugged Marron away. Marron considered how kind Trunks was. He hadn't jeered or even smiled. As the morning progressed, Trunks avoided going past the bell, but occasionally someone would comment, "Uub hasn't done it yet! You're going to take home the panda."  
  
Trunks gave a sober nod to indicate he'd heard, but then he said to Marron, "Uub is a little tense about this. I wish there was another challenger to defuse him. It was stupid to set it up. I was careless. I'm the stranger and Uub is very serious. If it should come to trouble - and it could, because I can't think of a way to withdraw from it - but if there is trouble go immediately to your car and leave. I wouldn't want you involved. It could get ugly."  
  
"We could leave - now."  
  
"Let's consider that later. We've got the day. Let's enjoy what we have. A solution might come. He could beat me."  
  
So they wandered around. He pounded a peg with a mallet and flipped a weighted rubber frog onto a lily pad and won her a doll. He tossed rings over enough pegs to win her five peacock plumes in gorgeous iridescent purples, blues and greens. She accepted each feather thoughtful and considered it a sign for her to just forget Sharpener. There is an old superstition that if there are peacock feathers in a house, there will be no marriage.  
  
She took Trunks' pocketknife and ruthlessly cut the feather stems down to about ten inches and stuck them in a row into the band at the back of her hat. He said they were perfect. She laughed up at him, but he didn't laugh back. As he looked at her, his eyes were shadowed by his lashes and his mouth was serious. He said again, softly, "Perfect."  
  
No one pays serious attention to an obvious line or to a skilled tongue in a man who'd obviously known a girl in every port. Trunks handled Marron in such a way there could be no doubt that he was no stranger to many pleased, delighted, charmed women. And she found she was jealous of all those others.  
  
How silly, she chided herself. This was a one-day fling. It wasn't the real Marron Chestnut who strolled beside this incredible man. It was a truant Marron she didn't even recognize. One who rather unsettled her.  
  
She became conscious of the glances women gave to Trunks as he ambled so casually along, attempting to appear indolent. He moved and his body was skilled. He turned his head and his eyes seemed like piercing blue jewels. He was magnificent. He did draw pierced, covetous, languid, envious stares. And it was she who walked with him.  
  
When Marron went to high school there had been no football players; the school was too small for a team, and she'd gone to a women's college. She'd never walked the halls beside a lumbering football hero. She'd never known that kind of reflected "glory," but now she did, and she relished the envious glances of other women. It was another part of this stolen day. 


	3. Pirate in Peril

Fair 3  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine.  
For lunch they gorged on hotdogs dripping with mustard. Marron was a purist and took only mustard, but Trunks also loaded his with chopped onions and pickle relish and a blob of catsup. She said he was a peasant. He agreed. "I'm a basic man with basic wants." The words in themselves weren't outrageous, but he smiled ever so slightly, and his eyes were hot blue flames.  
  
She couldn't think of any reply that wouldn't encourage him too much or sound too stupid. "Where shall we go to eat?"  
  
They carried their feast some distance from the fair to the shade of a stand of trees along the lake. They sat there with a big paper bag torn open and laid on the ground as their picnic cloth. She untied her hat with its peacock plumes and put it aside. He split their bags of corn chips and they ate too fast - wolfing it all down as often happens with hotdogs on such occasions.  
  
"What a hungry woman!" he exclaimed. "When I offered to feed you lunch, I thought that with that skinny shape you'd pick at your food."  
  
Her eyes laughing at him, she confessed, "It's this perfect day, being outside, the fair, the lake, and the hotdogs. I can never be discreet when I'm eating hotdogs. I gorge. Football games, basketball, baseball."  
  
"You're a sportswoman?" He inclined to disbelief.  
  
"Why are you surprised?"  
  
"You don't look like a sportswoman. You're too pale and delicate."  
  
She considered. "Perhaps sports are my rebellion. I like the competitiveness and violence because my life is so ordered."  
  
"How?"  
  
"I have a. private income. Very small." She shot him a quick look. "I live in a very small town that is slowly dying." Her eyes became quite sad. "It's been years since a baby was born in our town. All our young people leave. Now my cousin has told me she's leaving too. I'll be the last of my family living there."  
  
"But you won't go?"  
  
She looked out over the small lake and didn't reply for several minutes. "Half the stores on the courthouse square are vacant. There are empty houses all over town. We no longer have our own telephone exchange or repair. Our post office was closed down, and Mr. Yajiirobe has a counter in his grocery store that serves the town. There just aren't enough people to justify having one. We were once a town of almost two thousand, and now there are barely five hundred. The main road is kept in repair because it's a state highway, but the rest of the streets are in sad shape."  
  
He was listening carefully and noted that while she talked, she hesitated to mention her own town. So, she was still determined to remain anonymous. Interesting, he thought. He told her soothingly, "Do your parents still live there? Do you have brothers or sisters? What keeps you in. your town?"  
  
In his small pause she'd almost blurted the name. That would never do. This was only a stolen day. They would never meet again.  
  
She replied with the same hesitation as she watched her words for a name or any slip of information. "I was an only child. My parents were both from. there. Everyone expected them to marry, so they did. They were never completely unsuited. My father is rather indecisive, and my mother was quite liberal. And she's a free thinker. They grimly stayed together until I went to college, then Dad moved to Vladivostok "on business." He never returned home, but he would come to see me at college. I went to a women's college."  
  
"And your mother?"  
  
"After the divorce she went on a tour and met. Yamcha. He's from New York. After they married, Mother moved there. So you can see, with Dad in Vladivostok and Mother in Maine, they're about as far as they can get without actually leaving the planet. The town hasn't yet recovered from the shock of the divorce, and that was eight years ago. The town is conservative."  
  
They'd finished eating so Trunks put their debris into one sack and placed it away from them, then he turned their paper bag picnic cloth over so that the upper side was clean. He laid his hard muscled body next to the sack and stretched out, then patted the paper invitingly before he put that hand on his stomach. "You can use me for your pillow."  
  
It wasn't the sack that boggled her. It was Trunks lying there so marvelously. In that setting he should have been somewhat diminished by the tall trees, the decent-sized lake, the land that appeared endless, and the faraway blue sky. But instead it was he who dominated all of that. He was easy and confident in his power.  
  
He made the offer for her to lie next to him so casually. Sharpener had never done anything like that, but Trunks acted as if women lie down all the time with strange men on the side of the lake, on a summer day, in the shade of a grove of tall trees with the summer breeze gentle and sweet. He watched her with lazy, welcoming eyes.  
  
There was no one close by. No interested eyes - that knew who she was. So why not? What harm was there in simply stretching out by him there on the ground? It wasn't as if she would fling herself over him, kiss him madly and behave outrageously. All he had done was to invite her to lie down and put her head on his stomach. In that position she would be in control. If he moved she could very easily jump up and escape. Anyway, they weren't completely isolated, so she could call for help if she needed to.  
  
He watched her decide. She was sitting neatly with her knees to one side as she looked around. She was so interesting. He saw her judge the distance to the other people, and look across the fair, which represented safety. He controlled his smile. He had no idea whether she would lie down on the paper sack or not, and it amused him that he should be so interested in this prim and proper girl. Perhaps she would only be an older girl.  
  
He decided that if he had any brains at all, he would get up and out of here. Get away from this beautiful entanglement. From this girl-woman. In response to his own warning he was starting to rise, when she turned her back and looked at him. She was his moon maiden. Her blue eyes were like the Mediterranean summer night sky.  
  
He didn't get up after all. Instead he said, "Take your hair down."  
  
She looked at him sharply.  
  
He explained. "I don't want to the pins gouging at my tender stomach."  
  
She had to think about that too, but slowly she lifted her arms. As worldly as he was, Trunks wasn't jaded enough to conceal the gasp her exquisite movement drew from him. He relaxed. His beginning attempt at escape thwarted as he narrowed his eyes a little against the sensation in him caused by her movements in taking down her hair.  
  
The graceful figure sitting curled before him was exquisitely female. Her body was open to his gaze, and her nape was vulnerable as her head tilted downward as if in submission.  
  
He raised his knee and cleared his throat as he rubbed one hand slowly up and down his bare chest. "How long is it?" he added in a rather foggy voice.  
  
"It's not long. There's just a lot of it. I can't let it get too long. It gets heavy and I get headaches." She loosened the ribbed hair band and shook her hair free. It was just below her shoulders, and it looked like the golden sun around her head and shoulders.  
  
Her hair puffed and errant curls framed her face. Her white face, with her thick lashed blue eyes, almost stopped his heart. Something almost like fear trembled in him. Although he was technically lying motionless, he felt as if he was taking a blind step into an unknown territory.  
  
She gathered up her hair band and pins and looked for a place to keep them. He moved one arm toward her and turned his big hand up to receive them. It was such a simple gesture, but to both of them it appeared to have a greater meaning. She looked at his strong hand, then her eyes went to his and her lips parted. Their gaze was serious and longer than necessary. Then she lifted her hand and put the collection of pins and band onto his palm. Her fingers touched his palm and an electric thrill shot through them from the brief contact. With his eyes still on hers he closed his fist and held them tightly captured. To them it was as if his holding them was a symbol.  
  
She didn't immediately lie down. She stood and busily shook out her gown and lifted her face to the breeze as she finger-combed her hair. It was possible that she sought to distract them both from that remarkable minute, but she was very mistaken. She was in the shade, the July sun behind her and she was silhouetted beautifully in that modest, soft cotton gown. He was in thrall.  
  
She said, "What a glorious day!" She smiled down at him. He didn't reply but simply watched her. She said, "I almost didn't come to the fair. I saw the signs."  
  
"Yes."  
  
She asked, "Where is your home?"  
  
"Here," he replied solemnly.  
  
She chuckled deliciously and, feeling in control because they were joking, she sank down gracefully onto the crackling paper sack and pretended she needed to pillow plump his hard, sculpted stomach. "What a pillow!" she protested, acting inordinately casual and worldly. "What sort of feathers do you have?" She watched him as she pressed his side with her stiffened fingers.  
  
He couldn't think of a reply.  
  
With elaborate casualness, she settled down, and discretely she laid her silken head on his stomach. Her neck was too high, and she turned on her side so that her face was toward his. "What sort of work do you do to support that. uh. Muscle Machine?" She waited for him to entertain her.  
  
"Odd jobs," he replied. That was loosely true.  
  
"What sort of odd jobs allows you to support a. Muscle Machine?" Her eyes glittered with humor.  
  
"I'm a troubleshooter."  
  
She nodded. Was that like being a bouncer at a bar? She couldn't ask. He was probably a bodyguard. How dull. Of course, that would depend on whom he guarded. She frowned. It could be very dangerous. She'd read of people being kidnapped and their bodyguards were always left dead. She shivered. "Where does your family live?"  
  
"All over."  
  
Well, while that was mostly true enough, he sounded as if he was trying to be as vague as she. Perhaps this was a stolen day for him too. Trunks Briefs probably wasn't even his real name. Perhaps he had a stack of business cards with many different names on them, then each day he would become someone else. She'd read of someone who did that. He's married a whole string of women. She looked at Trunks. He was a man who might get away with that. There would be a shortage of willing women.  
  
How could she be critical of him when she was being as elusive? She suddenly realized. For all he knew he might be a gold digger after his money. She could be a very dangerous woman. She could be a woman who went around seducing men, driving them out of their minds and then flitting away, leaving them desolate. He was taking a great chance being out there, isolated from help, lying on the ground, vulnerable to her.  
  
His eyes were closed and he appeared to be asleep, though his pulse was rather high for him to be sleeping. She moved her head a little and contemplated this rash thing she was doing, lying there on the ground with her head on this man's stomach. How reckless of her!  
  
But she considered him. She was excessively conscious of the reality of him. The maleness of him. His unique fragrance. Stealthily she turned her head so that she could sniff at his skin. He smelled so good, so different. It was his own smell. She refrained form turning over and licking his stomach to taste him. How shocking that she would want to do that! Even just a quick lick could seem quite forward. She became aware of his breathing, making her conscious of him as a living being, a person, then she noticed the fact that his breathing wasn't very steady. He could be having a nightmare.  
  
He wasn't asleep, but he was experiencing something of a turmoil. She was so close, and his need for her had grown to awesome proportions. He opened his eyes to look at her and she was sniffing at him with some pleasure. That almost blew him sky high! She was a sensual woman! But such an innocent! He almost shivered with his desire.  
  
She pretended casualness and licked across her lip so that her tongue "accidentally" touched his skin. She relished it. She moved her tongue inside her mouth, tasting him. And her lashes closed in embarrassment over her rashness so they brushed against his bare skin in a butterfly kiss. She looked up and caught him watching her. She smiled innocently and her cheeks flushed as she thought of herself lying there curled on her side with her head on his stomach.  
  
There is a limit for any man. Trunks curled up, took her in his arms and kissed her. She had thought the kisses that she'd taken from her earlier were magnificent. They were nothing. She heard bells ringing and she recognized them as her alarm bells sounding in her brain. She was in serious danger.  
  
She smiled and moved in tiny stretches while lying across his lap in his arms, with her head back on his shoulder, completely unresisting. He trembled. His breath was harsh and his breathing ragged. Marron felt a surge of power, of astonishment, that he could react to her in that manner. Other people might react that way, in films or on TV. But here on the bank of a lake? With Marron Chestnut? She though that was completely incredible.  
  
She saw that he managed to drag himself to a halt. Disgracefully, she was no help to his control and her conscience did writhe but her senses were so deliciously drugged that she paid no attention. And anyway, her curiosity was rampant. What would he do?  
  
He finally lifted his mouth from hers, and the exchanged a sober gaze. Her breasts were pressed against his bare chest, and she found that exceedingly nice. His arms held her lax body strongly, and she didn't do anything to discourage him.  
  
Watching her eyes, he carefully moved his hand from her back, around her ribs, to just under her breast. He watched her lips part as her cheeks flushed, but she didn't object. He moved his hand up over her breast, his fingers spread at he rubbed his palm over her sensitive mound. She gasped and her body moved. He kissed her again quite remarkably, but she had floundered out of her depth and began to struggle.  
  
He released her immediately, slowly, soberly, watching her very seriously. She sat up, self-consciously combed her hair with her fingers and swallowed, trying to delay anything protesting. How could she protest when she had encouraged him? That was a difficult question. Finally, she looked at him.  
  
He seemed frozen still. It was stridently apparent that he was having a very hard time. But he was no longer just any man to her. She had become too aware of him as an individual. Someone who lived and breathed; wanted and suffered. One who could be hurt. She had lured him into feeding her curiosity and had allowed him too much. She knew better. She was very fortunate he had obeyed her resistance that late.  
  
She moved from him to give him time. He took a deep breath and bowed his head forward as he hung her arms over his drawn-up knees. She put her hand on his forearm and asked, "Are you all right?"  
  
He lifted his head to smile ruefully. "You're very, very dangerous."  
  
"I am?" She was somewhat indignant. After all, she hadn't started it; she'd only not stopped it. He was the one who had kissed her! She'd been lying there perfectly ordinarily. Well there was no way he could have known her curious she was about him or her reactions to him. Or, could he have felt that tiny lick? Could something that minor set him off? Could she just ask him: "Trunks, did you notice that I licked your stomach?" That sounded terribly sinful! He couldn't have noticed that she did that. Even if he had, no man could be triggered by such a tiny act. She decided that to get excited over one little bitty flick of a tongue would be ridiculous. She dismissed the silly idea. She began, "Trunks - "  
  
She was interrupted by a man yelling, "Trunks!" It was like a strange echo of her word.  
  
Trunks rolled effortlessly to his feet to stand astride, his hands in the vest's deep pockets as he looked at a man jogging toward them. The man was laughing. "That crazy fool did it again! Uub hit three in a row."  
  
"Oh, HFIL," Trunks muttered under his breath, and gave an exasperated sigh.  
  
The man turned as he called cheerfully, "Come on back." He gave a beckoning wave.  
  
Trunks lifted one hand, but he gave no smile in return.  
  
"My hair." Her eyes were quiet. "I need my pins."  
  
He took them from his pockets and held them on his palm as she used them. He acted as if he had all the time in the world. He watched as she skillfully twisted the mass into the smooth and proper bun, settled her hair with its peacock feathers back on her head, and demurely tied it under her chin.  
  
He smiled as she looked up at him from under the brim. His eyes were gentle; the fires in them were banked. He nodded once, as if he acknowledged some kind of agreement, before he took her hand. As they walked he asked her, "What's your middle name?"  
  
"Just Marron."  
  
"Just Marron." He left the space for her to supply her last name, but she did not.  
  
He said, "I won't kiss you this time. Maybe then I'll miss and he'll win that damned panda."  
  
But he couldn't miss, even without kissing Marron. Uub had a girl there, and he kissed her rather wildly each time before he swung, but he missed the middle bell. He hit the third bell furiously, then turned and glared at Trunks. At three there's fights. We're in the same class. I'll fight you for the damned panda."  
  
Trunks shook his head. "No."  
  
"What's the matter, hero?" Gutless?" Uub taunted loudly.  
  
Trunks gave him a slow, level look and replied quietly, "I am a martial artist. I was taught to win. I won't fight you hand to hand. But I'm open to any other contest."  
  
"The races are next!" a male voice suggested.  
  
Uub sneered. "Can you ride a horse?"  
  
Trunks' eyes crinkled just a bit, but his mouth didn't smile. "I can stay on."  
  
"Then let's go."  
  
"Do I have some say as to the horse?" Trunks asked.  
  
Another voice offered, "You're big enough to ride mine."  
  
Trunks laughed softly, thinking about what kind of horse might be offered to a stranger. It was, however, a surprisingly good horse. Intelligent, alert, nicely restless, and beautifully graceful. "How's his mouth?"  
  
"Sensitive. He'll ride to a squeeze."  
  
"You'll trust him to me?"  
  
"I've watched you." That seemed to reply to Trunks' question, and he understood. He, too, watched men to see if they were trustworthy. He even realized that once Uub got through this arrogant stage, he'd probably be a good man. He had great determination; he simply had to learn where to use it. He also had cheerful friends who were loyal. In a pinch Uub would probably pull the strongest for a cause. Trunks felt it would be interesting to see.  
  
Because of the interest in the competition between Uub and Trunks, their race was last. There were speculations and bets. Uub was known, but Trunks was a dark horse. Marron smiled to hear her pirate called a dark horse. The race made for an interesting afternoon.  
  
There was no racetrack. The dirt access road was used instead because there were two well-packed lanes where the horses could race side by side and there were no chuckholes. They ran the horses at a time for purposes of elimination. It was really the horses that were being matched, not the riders.  
  
Trunks petted his horse, High Wind, allowing the animal to become accustomed to him as Marron tied one of her peacock feathers in his mane. The horse was gelded so it would never "marry" anyway. Trunks was told the horse loved the wind and ran like it. Trunks mounted and dismounted, and rode the horse in gentle circles. Then he took him off along the lake for a ride to see how he paced.  
  
High Wind won. It was so close that there was little arguing about it, but it was Uub who said High Wind won. "I could see it," he stated firmly.  
  
When they gave out the ribbons, Trunks added his to the horse's bridle. The horse had run competitively without any urging from Trunks, who'd simply gone along for the ride. He said as much, and High Wind chose that time to nod, making the spectators laugh.  
  
With the ribbons distributed and the races finished, there was an odd pause as Uub and Trunks looked at each other. Their match was still unresolved.  
  
"So?" Trunks asked softly.  
  
"You won't fight me?" Uub lifted his chin in challenge.  
  
"The logs," someone shouted amid the varying suggestions. "Nobody beats Uub at the logs."  
  
With relief, Trunks gave a quizzical smile. "Logs? Do you climb them or carry them?"  
  
"You walk them," Uub said arrogantly. "You ever do it?" He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "In water?" he added belatedly.  
  
Trunks chuckled with real humor. "Log rolling? My Waterloo!" And he was so amused that others laughed too. "I've never done it. Give me a little practice first?"  
  
"Yeah." Uub eyed Trunks. "And you gotta have boots. What size?"  
  
"Twelve."  
  
Uub yelled, "Any log boots size twelve?"  
  
"Ho!" There came that cheerful call. "You don't have hoof-and- mouth-disease, do you?"  
  
"I'm pure," replied Trunks, and the people around laughed.  
  
Trunks kept hold of Marron's hand as they went through the crowd to the man who would lend him boots.  
  
"Never done it?" the man asked. "It's tricky and takes talent. Watch the other guy's feet. He'll try to dump you. Wear a shirt. You should scrape yourself on the bark. Here, you can have mine. You ought to wear a wool cap too. Keep your hair out of the way. I ain't got lice, so you can wear mine."  
  
He was a friendly man named Omi, and he followed as Trunks was led down to the lake edge opposite from where they'd picnicked. Uub and his cohorts trailed along and others followed.  
  
Lying in the water was a log, the bark still on it, and it was big enough not to submerge when two men stood on it. Omi mentioned, "You're gonna get wet."  
  
Trunks grinned. "I suspected."  
Thanks to those who reviewed! I'm really glad that you like it although I do wish that more people would review. Four hours a chapter for two reviews doesn't seem fair. But don't worry. I've no plans of abandoning this fic. And I'll still write for those who still keep on reviewing. ( 


	4. Part of a Crowd

Fair 4  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  
+++  
  
The word passed through the crowd that a Green One was going to be initiated into log rolling. More people arrived and spaced themselves along the grassy bank of the lake to watch the fun.  
  
There were quite a few logs on the water. Each log was capable of carrying several men's weight at a time. Three men had poles with hooks on the end, and they could maneuver the logs by pushing or pulling them into place. One log was positioned so that the water around it was cleared. That was the log for competition.  
  
The three men had Trunks walk the logs like stepping stones and had him try rolling a log by walking its girth, then counter-walking against the roll and using his body and feet to halt the momentum. It was adventuresome. Then they took him to the carefully spaced log, which was alone in the water, but with logs reasonably close by in case of trouble.  
  
Trunks was dumped into the water almost immediately - to shouts. That brought Marron up on her knees, for Trunks was rather heavily dressed and the weight of the boots might drag him down. But then she realized that the water was only waist deep.  
  
Uub lounged on the grass with the others and watched. Marron became gradually aware that Uub inadvertently twitched in body English as he tried to help Trunks. She decided that he acted odd for an opponent.  
  
Amid great hilarity - and a good deal of that was his own - Trunks first learned to stay on the log, then to counter it to try to dump the other man into the water. It was hard work. Finally, he challenged Uub and met him on the log. Almost immediately Trunks went into the water. Uub made Trunks run to keep up with the log's rapid roll before he braked the log. Trunks surfaced and pulled himself back up. There was a tolerance in the crowd and a growing delight.  
  
At one point Trunks simply stood in the water with his arms on the log and laughed. Marron sat and watched him. There's something about a man who can laugh at himself. He hauled himself up on the log to stand on it soaking wet. He was so beautifully made. His body was perfectly tuned. He was so determined, so concentrated and dogged. But he was no log man. Admiration began to grow in the crowd as he kept trying.  
  
Even Uub laughed. And it was he who finally said, "You'll never do it. I guess it's a draw. I can't ring the damned bell and you sure as hfil can't log walk."  
  
"Give me another half hour." Trunks dragged himself up onto the log one more time.  
  
Uub shook his head as he balanced himself against Trunks' effort. "In another half hour I'd have to pull you out of the water or you'll drown."  
  
"I think another half hour I'll be ready to drown."  
  
"Getting a little tired?" The taunt was milder.  
  
Trunks grinned. "Just a tad. Maybe we ought to try the bells again. I doubt I'd be able to lift the hammer."  
  
Uub replied honestly, "That'd be no contest." They looked at each other down the length of the log, then met in the middle and shook hands. It was a very nice thing to witness. The crowd clapped and cheered. The antagonism had been so harsh for Uub but they had gone past it and were shaking hands with a mutual respect.  
  
Uub said, "Be my partner on the greased pole."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Uub seemed surprised. "To get the flag nailed at the top."  
  
Trunks shook his head. "You've permanently incapacitated me. There's no way I could climb even an ungreased pole."  
  
"It won't be till after supper. You can rest. And it's only your legs that are tired." Uub was positive as he instructed Trunks on his body's exhaustion. "Your arms are still good. You shove; I'll climb."  
  
Trunks pushed up his lower lip up thoughtfully as he studied Uub. "Are you sure?"  
  
"It's instinct." Uub assured him. "You'll catch on fast as you watch. It's timing. You got good timing. We'll make it." He closed his fist and stuck his thumb up.  
  
"I'll do my damnedest."  
  
"I know you will."  
  
Uub was still dry, but Trunks ran rivulets of water on the log. He grinned, followed Uub off the log and across the other logs on the bank. Uub asked, "You got dry clothes?"  
  
"Yes,"  
  
"I'll be around."  
  
Trunks came back to Marron. She was sitting cross-legged next to a very pregnant woman. On Marron's lap was a sleeping two-year-old who had dried tear streaks on dusty cheeks and a peacock feather in her tangled blond locks.  
  
The child's dad took her from Marron, and Trunks gave a wet hand to tug Marron to her feet. He said, "You gave her a feather."  
  
"It's okay. She's too young to be married."  
  
With Marron carrying his dry vest, they walked slowly. Trunks stretched himself and moved his shoulders ruefully. They went back to the clothing booth, and the woman there teased Trunks, "What did you do that she had to duck you?"  
  
"She's very narrow-minded," he told them as Marron sputtered and blushed. She laughed to be teased so. She'd never been teased. Sharpener had always been ponderous.  
  
Under a pile of men's clothes, they finally found a pair of gray flannel warm-up pants that would fit Trunks' size. He went into the dressing room and changed into them. One of the women smiled wickedly at Marron and offered, "I'll give you all my fortune, my car and my gold filling for him."  
  
Marron blushed again and shook her head.  
  
Trunks ducked through the booth's drape. The soft flannel molded him from his waist down with loving care. His blue eyes pierced Marron and noted her blush as it deepened.  
  
The woman said to him, "I understand you're going to partner Uub for the greased pole. I'll try to get these dry for you, if you like, because you'll want something else to wear after that mess."  
  
"Why, thank you. That's very nice of you."  
  
"My pleasure."  
  
Marron was impatient. The woman was bold.  
  
Trunks told the woman, "The shirt and hat are Mr. Omi's."  
  
"We'll see he gets them."  
  
Trunks paid for the new pants and they left the booth. He took Marron's arm and said, "Now, Just Marron, when she offered her gold filling for me, what did you say?"  
  
"You came out too soon," she replied primly. "I intended in getting her to throw in her hearing aid too."  
  
He squeezed his long fingers around her small arm and shook a little. "So you think you can trade me off?"  
  
"Gold is down."  
  
"The same thing happens to sassy women." His voice was a low, purring growl, and he licked his lips like a lion when it's hungry.  
  
He led her to their cars and retrieved his shirt. He wore it loose over those soft pants. Marron wondered if her was aware how perfectly they lay on his masculine body, like another skin.  
  
It was suppertime, and Marron had not left. She had a twinge or two of anxiety as she wondered where she'd find a motel that late. Days lingered long in the summertime. The sun was still fairly high in the sky. She and Trunks went to the barbecue tent and selected pork chops, sauerkraut and apples that had been stewed with red cinnamon drops. They found a place on the lake bank to sit, and gradually others joined them, including Uub and his group. Uub asked bluntly, "Where're you from?"  
  
"I'm looking for a place," Trunks replied. "I've been on the West Coast, and now I'm looking around."  
  
Marron felt an odd lick of something like fear in her stomach.  
  
Uub offered, "You could do worse than here." A surprising accolade to bid a late antagonist such a welcome. Trunks gave a serious nod to acknowledge Uub's offer. "I believe I've already found the place," he said obliquely.  
  
"Where's that?"  
  
"I have to look it over a little more carefully."  
  
"Let me know."  
  
"I will."  
  
Marron kept her eyes on her plate. So he would be on his way. He had purpose in his travels. She had just this day. Tomorrow he'd leave and they would be worlds apart. She, too, would go on. Suddenly, she was rather depressed.  
  
He said in her ear, "If you're not going to eat your second pork chop, I'll try to choke it down."  
  
She had to grin. All his activities had given him a voracious appetite. It was something to watch him eat so hungrily. He was supposed to be tired, but his movements flowed in perfect control. Apparently, he had no sore muscles. His eyes were quick and aware. He asked her, "Do you need more sunscreen?"  
  
She shook her head. Their talk became general. The other women easily included Marron in their conversation even as their eyes slid over Trunks. But Uub's girl lay with her head in Uub's lap, and he looked down at her often.  
  
Marron tried to think if she had ever been in a group of peers like this, so casually. They weren't nearly this many young people in Peach. She asked the woman next to her, who was her age and called Leona,  
  
"Are all of you from around here? From the same town?"  
  
"We're from a scattering of towns." Leona replied. "We did go to the same consolidated high school and rode school buses together. Then there were meetings and competitions, and the towns have socials so kids can get together. Are you from a big city?"  
  
Marron said ruefully, "No, my town is very small. It's over in Mango."  
  
"Are you travelling?"  
  
Marron could see that Trunks had riveted his attention to her words. "Yes, on holiday."  
  
"What brought you to our fair? I ask because we always wonder what lures in strangers."  
  
"I think it was the word arrow printed inside the arrow."  
  
"Really? That was my idea!" Leona shouted to the others of her committee, who were also lounging around," "She liked my sign."  
  
Marron agreed. "After the "watch for the arrow" and then to have it labeled that way, I couldn't resist."  
  
"See?" Leona bragged to the rest, and they all groaned.  
  
Uub explained, "We all tried to talk her out of it. We thought it was dumb." Then he had a sudden thought. "She told you to say that?"  
  
Marron shook her head, laughing with the rest of them as Leona stood up and flung her arms out to declare, "I'm going to start an advertising company and make my fortune."  
  
It was her husband nearby who explained, "All pregnant women get hysterical. Just yesterday-" But he was interrupted by whoops.  
  
"You did it, Nakago!" Leona protested. "I warned you not to tell yet. You never can keep a secret." She acted provoked.  
  
But Junichiro smiled sweetly and replied, "I'm pleased about it."  
  
So what would Leona do? She laughed, forgetting her anger, accepted all the comments, teasing and congratulations.  
  
Marron felt a strange wave of jealousy. Next to her Trunks' deep voice said softly, "That's nice to see."  
  
Marron looked up at him and his face was blurred by her tears of envy, and she replied, "Yes."  
  
After they finished eating, the group walked around and watched the acrobats, who were grade school kids from their gym classes. Marron knew she should leave, but she really wanted to watch Trunks in the greased pole competition. So she stayed with him and listened to the amateur troubadours. One young man had made up words up to a standard ballad tune. It was about Invincible Trunks and the Rolling Log. Here and there were sly double meanings and innuendoes, and it was quite naughty. The women giggled behind their hands as they looked at one another, and some pretended not to understand. But the men laughed openly as they looked at Trunks or reached to slap his shoulders.  
  
Trunks shook his head at them, put out his hands in innocence, shrugged his shoulders, or put one hand to his chest in a "not me!" manner. In general, he hammed it up quite nicely. But he realized that although Marron laughed, she missed most of the meanings, for she hardly blushed at all.  
  
Then Trunks held out a questioning hand for the young man's guitar, and it was readily given to him. He strummed several chords. In a deep, true voice he sang to Marron. He sang about giving his live cherries that had no stones, and chickens without bones. The crowd was absolutely still. As the day eased down in that place, out under the wide sky with people who were no longer strangers, he sang to a woman he'd met only that morning. To a woman he found and wanted very badly.  
  
With the cheers and clapping at the end of his performance, Trunks returned the guitar to the troubadour and went to Marron. He leaned to kiss her as if that was his right, and she didn't deny him. He took her hand and they went to the clothing tent, where he retrieved his trousers. Then they went to the place where the poles were set for the last contest. He took off his vest, then his shirt, and handed them to Marron. He stood again clad only in his soft gray sweat pants. He was magnificent.  
All through the ages, for as long as there's been grease, greased poles have figured in human endeavors. For sport, the greased pole is complete madness, and the pole at the Apricot fair was no exception. People laughed until they had to lie back on the grass in collapse. The worst of it was that the contenders laughed too. There is no weakness as helpless as someone convulsed with laughter. Uub didn't laugh. He was a competitor.  
  
There were two poles. The point was to snatch the flag form the top of the pole. From the bucket of a cherry picker hydraulic arm attached to a truck, the grease had been applied lovingly and with lavishness. Climbing the pole was impossible. Every team had two tries. They ran through the line of contenders, then went through again. By then the pole was only unreasonably slippery as compared to impossibly so.  
  
No one could watch this contest sober-faced. People do such odd things. They put themselves to such ridiculous tasks for the foolishness of it. Anyone doing something foolish always can find someone who will not watch them try but it will bet on the outcome.  
  
Uub never admitted to failure. When he slid back down the pole, he was still scrambling upward, like he was swimming against too strong a current. He would not quit. Others slid down the pole quite clownishly, and everyone loved it.  
  
They were a mess! The greasy men would threaten a woman or two with a hug or a kiss or a pat, and the woman would flee in shrieking, protesting laughter.  
  
Marron was accepted comfortably by the crowd. She gave one of her peacock feathers to an old toothless man. She warned him that, with the feather in the house, he'd never marry. His wheezing laugh alarmed her, but someone close by said he'd be okay.  
  
She had only two feathers left. She discarded her hat and poked the feathers into the top of her hair knot like a Spanish comb. She looked elegant. As Trunks drew stares from women, Marron received many appreciative male ones. Any woman who is with an enviable man will draw stares and advances from other men. Men want what that which is another man's, and a woman who is with a formidable man is coveted. It was an unknown, heady experience for Marron. When she lifted her chin, her feathers appeared regal.  
  
The glow of pride in her wasn't self-pride but pleasure in the man who was Trunks Briefs. He was very special. Look at the turnaround he'd maneuvered that day in Uub. Or in her! Prim, closed Marron Chestnut was now part of a laughing crowd.  
  
She'd never been part of a crowd. She'd been responsible for the feeling of the crowd, but she'd never been an integral part of one. It felt marvelously different. There was a sense of irresponsibility that was so free. She didn't have to do anything about anyone. She had only to enjoy this feeling of... belonging. And it was all because of Trunks.  
  
She looked around her at the friendly faces. She listened to the laughter. Almost everyone there knew Trunks' name. They teased and called to him, and she shared in it all. She was... a part of Trunks.  
  
She became quiet. She could readily accept the phenomenal astonishment of being part of an anonymous crowd, but to a part of a man? She looked at him.  
  
He was phenomenal. Just look at how he was handling that impossible task of keeping Uub from exasperation. Making the excessively competitive Uub enjoy their silly tries.  
  
With a jump up, Uub grabbed the pole and received a powerful push from Trunks as he scrambled and clawed his way toward the top. As the teams were eliminated, they got highest and finally Uub snatched the flag. Everyone collapsed, but Marron saw that Trunks caught and eased Uub down that slick pole to the ground.  
  
The teams were all a mess. The men laughed as they slid their hands down their bodies, chasing children and women, who fled shrieking. For the observers that was probably the best part of the whole contest. But while the men had a hilarious time chasing and threatening to, they never actually touched anyone to share the mess.  
  
The greasy men finally went down around the lake, some modest distance from everyone else. There stood a barrel that sat in the sun all day, so the water in it was warm. They dipped into the soapy water and began to clean themselves. "This soap is raw lye!" They objected, but they said that every year.  
  
It took them some time to clean up. Then they put their unspeakably greasy clothes into the barrel to soak and, amid laughter and distant cheers and jeers, they ran out naked into the lake to rinse off, exuberantly to play, and to finally drag themselves from the water to dry off and put on dry clothes.  
  
They walked back along the side of the lake and talked among themselves as they returned to they returned to the families and friends who waited. They would retrieve the greasy clothes from the barrel the next day.  
  
"Maybe tonight someone will be kind enough to steal the barrel," someone said.  
  
"We say that every year. It never happens."  
  
Trunks returned - as one of the group- and kissed Marron in greeting. She leaned her head back to smile up at him, accepting his kiss. He touched the two peacock feathers stuck into the top of her hair and told her, "Only two are left."  
  
She nodded more elaborately so that the feathers would move.  
  
"You must keep these two," he told her quite seriously. "I'll tell you when to burn them." He put on his shirt and vest, took her hand, and they walked with the rest back to the fair, where Trunks made a ceremony of presenting Uub with the panda.  
  
By then it was nine o' clock. The day was almost spent. The sun had left the sky, and the beautifully golden afterglow slowly changed to red. Trunks said softly, "Someone wrote that if there was a sunset only every hundred years, the anticipation would be intense, and no one would miss it. We waste them because there will be another gorgeous, different one tomorrow."  
  
Marron thought, What an interesting thing for such a man to comment about. He seemed so physical, but he read, he observed and appreciated. He was complex. He was very different from Sharpener.  
  
There were going to be fireworks, which Marron wanted to see. Trunks gathered his two quilts and handed them to Marron. Then he went to the horse tent, where he, like some others, had reserved a bale of hay. Marron watched him pay for it, and she frowned a little. What would they do with a bale of hay and two quilts?  
  
"Why the hay?" she inquired.  
  
Trunks glanced at her rather distractedly as he balanced the bale on his shoulder and took her hand to walk toward the lake. "We're going to watch the fireworks reflected in the lake."  
  
She thought that sounded logical. "Oh," she said. And there were other couples who were walking along who also had bales of hay to sit on.  
  
She noticed that the couples split away. Some went into the woods. Marron wondered how could they expect to see the fireworks through the tress, or to see them reflected in the lake if they were in the woods? She was turning and looking back, but Trunks kept walking. "Trunks..." she began doubtfully.  
  
"If we're lucky we'll find a reasonable place just opposite the fair."  
  
"We don't have to go that far."  
  
"Right. Just far enough."  
  
Why should he sound amused? She mused, and her steps began to lag.  
  
"Come on, Marron we have t be settled before it starts. You know it won't take long. We have to be ready."  
  
He sounded so reasonable. She went along but stayed several steps behind him. The moon wasn't up yet, but the night sky was bright with stars. It was beautiful. Being in the dark and away from all artificial light, the stars were there to see, and to se by.  
  
Trunks looked around. He finally stood on the edge of the lake and decided he'd found a place. "It could be damp here with the water absorbed into the mud. We'd best move back a ways."  
  
They moved back under the trees. With the undergrowth, it was almost a bower opened at one side toward the lake.  
  
He dropped the bale and stretched. She started to put one quilt on it, but he took a pocketknife from his pocket and snapped the baling twine. She was somewhat startled to see him open it out and spread the hay in a nice thick pad about the size of a folded quilt - or a bed.  
  
She became thoughtful. What had she gotten into? She looked around and the other couples had all disappeared. They were alone out here. Was he making a bed? She wondered, and stiffened.  
  
He said matter-of-factly, "This should be quite comfortable. We'll be able to see them busting in the sky against the stars. It should be quite a show." His white teeth glinted as he smiled at her.  
  
She was uneasy as she stood there. He took the quilts from her unresisting arms and spread one on top of the hay. She looked across the lake. Almost all the lights from the fair were out so they wouldn't detract form the fireworks. She could see no one else. But then she saw a tiny pinpoint as someone lit a match.  
  
How had she gotten out here all alone with Trunks Briefs, a total stranger?  
+++  
  
This chapter's for my roommate at the uni. That's where I write my chapters when I'm not buried in books. or hanging out. Hope you're happy Leona! You finally got your man. (  
  
I've added names to the chapters because they look pretty boring without any names. Thank you for your support and please keep on reading. Onegaishimasu! 


	5. Unusual

Fair 5  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  
+++  
  
Since Trunks was attuned to Marron's feelings, he treated the night, the contrived bed and Marron as if the circumstances were perfectly ordinary. She tried to think of exactly the right thing to say and she took a breath several times to begin, but she couldn't think of any ordinary sentences to define her particular situation and explain herself to this stranger.  
  
She stiffened more as she saw that he took off his vest. He was undressing! It was exactly as she suspected he was about to try to seduce her. She thought how shocked Sharpener would be.  
  
As she took yet another full breath to begin a speech, Trunks said nicely, "It can be cold at night in the open, and you look frozen. Here, this is warm. Put it on." He held the vest for her.  
  
That he would offer her more clothing threw off her arguments. He wasn't trying to seduce her after all. She was somewhat startled that a corner of her mind was disappointed.  
  
She automatically moved her arms into the correct holes in the vest and found the bottom of it came to her calves. It was so warm. She felt back in control.  
  
"Here. Lie down this way. I've puffed up the straw so we can see the lake too."  
  
He appeared to be concentrating on the fireworks. She looked around, found herself sitting on the edge of the folded quilt, and then taking off her moccasins. He was standing back courteously, holding the Floating Lilies quilt. She sat back but didn't lie down. He hadn't made the nest very wide. She kept track of him cautiously from the corner of her eye as he moved around. When he sat next to her, she moved over as far as she could.  
  
"Did I get it too small?" he asked chattily.  
  
"Somewhat," she replied primly.  
  
"I thought it would be warmer if we had the bottom quilt doubled. We can try it this way, and if it's too close, we can spread the straw wider. See what you think."  
  
She thought how threatening he was. He spread the quilt over her but not over him. That did surprise her. She had thought he would get down under the blanket and... and...  
  
"Look! They lit a fuse! It's about to begin. Are you comfortable?"  
  
"Yes. Fine." She lay back, pulling the quilt up to her chin and her head fell back so that she looked straight up at the sky. She sat up again and turned to frown at the top of the quilt under them.  
  
"Oops!" he said busily. "Too flat." He worked with quick calculations pawing around ineffectively. "Try that."  
  
Again she went down flat.  
  
"Should have gotten another bale!" He fretted as if to himself. "Here, put your head on my shoulder... But first you have to get rid of all those hairpins again. I'm no pincushion. Hurry up." He sounded a little impatient for such a guileful man.  
  
She began to remove the hairpins. "Hurry!" he said again. He removed the two remaining feathers from her hair and laid them carefully in the corner between the folded underquilt. Then, impatiently, he took her pins one by one, and her hair came tumbling down.  
  
"Good." He had every reason to be satisfied as he made her comfortable, his arm under her head and opposite shoulder. "You can talk all you want, but hold still. I don't want to miss the show."  
  
"What did you do with my hairpins?"  
  
"They're up her under the edge of the quilt. They'll be fine." He took a deep breath. "They'll start soon. Hasn't this been a nice day?"  
  
"You must be exhausted."  
  
"Just nicely tired." He gave her the tiniest little friendly hug with the arm under her and his hand on her opposite upper arm. "How about you? Tired?"  
  
"Not really. This has been a wonderful day," she said rather shyly. "I've never had such a good time."  
  
"Me too." He reached over his other arm and gave her a nice, still- friendly hug, but his left hand had to move down her body, since his right hand pulled her arm around as he pressed her so briefly against him. After he relaxed the hug and put his right hand on his own chest, his left hand stayed on her body just below her armpit. Since she was lying flat, it was quite close to the side of her breast.  
  
She knew she should speak but wasn't sure what she what she wanted to say. He didn't move the hand so she turned a little toward him to give it more room. Apparently he thought she wanted another hug, so she gave her one. Then he moved his mouth down to hers and, with the pressure of his kiss, he moved her head back. He said, "You're so sweet." And he pulled her arms closer.  
  
In doing that his hand slipped along so that the heel of his hand was pressed into the side of her breast.  
  
She opened her mouth to protest and reached to move his hand, but her opened mouth only invited him to deepen his kiss into something she had never experienced. She reacted to it in a mind-disturbing way as her body shivered with thrills. He made a sound that shot through her in a shockingly marvelous way, just as the first of the fireworks shot off, whistled into the air and exploded in a stunning red, blue and white shower.  
  
Very low and growling, he told her. "That's what you do inside me."  
  
She didn't reply, because she was swamped with such sensation that she knew that if she tried to speak, she'd babble incoherently. With her body under the onslaught of sensations along her nerve ends, and with throbbing touches in mysterious places, the fireworks went on. It seemed perfectly logical for the display to continue, not as a celebration of the county fair, but because she was lying on a bed of quilt-covered straw in Trunks Briefs' arms and he had kissed her mind into oblivion.  
  
He leaned up on an elbow in order to look down at her. His head was dark against the display of stars strewn across the night sky and the exploding magic of the fireworks.  
  
Her eyes were enormous as she looked up at him. He smiled and murmured, "Moon maiden," as he kissed her again. He found that her lips were soft and sweet, but shy. Had he kissed so few men? He moved his mouth gently, and then touched his tongue to her lips to part them. She gasped a little, parting her teeth, and her breath shuddered as his tongue touched hers.  
  
He almost lost control as he felt her hands timidly creep up his shoulders to the nape of his neck. His body was tensed, his hands moved, and she made sounds of protest. He kissed her again.  
  
Sharpener had never made her feel this way. He had been so... disinterested, his kisses such nothings. She could never marry him now. How could she, knowing that this is what making love was like?  
  
Making love? That's what she was doing! She was making love to a stranger. She was allowing him all sorts of delicious liberties. How could she? She had known him only since that morning. "Trunks?" she said.  
  
He didn't want any distraction.  
  
She persisted, "You must not."  
  
Conversation or debate wasn't what he had in mind at all. He rubbed his face against hers and lifted the quilt so that their bodies were against each other.  
  
She took his head between her hands and pushed gently. "Trunks..."  
  
"I'm going to make love with you."  
  
"Why?" She almost choked on her heart, which had leaped into her throat.  
  
"I won the ring. I get my wish. It will come true."  
  
"Now, Trunks..."  
  
"I saw you driving that little blue car - Emma -- and I followed you. You- "  
  
"I thought you couldn't pass me."  
  
"I didn't want to."  
  
"You deliberately followed me?"  
  
"Yes." He nudged along her jaw line and down her throat, nibbling, not paying a whole lot of attention to the conversation because he was so distracted by her.  
  
"You hadn't intended coming to the fair?"  
  
"Not until you did. I was going wherever you were going. You got out of Emma and looked at me, and I knew that I wanted you like I've never wanted any other woman in my life."  
  
"Trunks. We just met this morning."  
  
"In this one day I know everything I need to know about you. You are a love. When I saw you holding that little girl, having taken her and comforted her..."  
  
"She was only tired. We don't have little kids like that in... my town."  
  
"I'm going to love you." He made it a statement.  
  
She assumed he meant the physical act, and she shivered with something rather remarkable and she tried to figure out exactly what was happening to her.  
  
He had parted his vest, which she still wore, and tugged down the scoop neck of her gown. She squirmed inside her still body, and there were tremblings of thrills. He had said he knew her. And she knew him as a man. All that day had been as a proving of the kind of man he was. She then realized she wanted him as badly.  
  
Why not? What could be wrong? She would probably never marry. Knowing Trunks had ruined any possibility of that. She was no child. She was responsible for her own conduct. She could take care of her self. And no on in all of Apricot knew her. Trunks wasn't the only anonymous stranger, so was Marron Chestnut. And she wanted him.  
  
To her that was so incredible. Just as mad as this entire stolen day. It was so unlike her. But she was going to let him make love to her, and there was such a clamoring of reasoning to her mind that she simply closed it all off and allowed sensations to swamp through all her objections and obliterate them.  
  
She had enough reason left to grasp the question, "Will I get pregnant?"  
  
"No, I'll take care of you." He quickly kissed her again; curling her to him, holding her, murmuring, breathing, his body so hard, hers so soft, and he made love to her.  
  
It was astonishing. She felt things went a little fast. She was unsure. She panicked a little here and there. Gasping, reaching for him, wanting more. And he finally took her. She shuddered, then relaxed and exclaimed, "Why, it's so..."  
  
It was all very unusual.  
  
That was the word that occupied her mind as they lay in a tumble, gasping and shivering with the aftermath of their unusual encounter.  
  
Trunks leaned on one elbow and stroked Marron. He was sweaty from his fever, from the fire that had consumed him. She lay silently under him, still enthralled with the word unusual.  
  
Timidly she reached up and touched his damp hair. He turned his head and kissed her hand. The neglected fireworks were still going on. He leaned in gently to kiss her tender, swollen mouth. With exquisite care, he ran his hand down her side and up again. He gently lay on her, put his hands under her shoulders and curled them up as he hugged her. "That was beautiful."  
  
"Unusual." She got to say the fascinating word.  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
"I'm astonished."  
  
"You are marvelous," he corrected in that deep husky voice.  
  
"Oh, Trunks, I never expected to experience anything like this."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I never expected to meet a man I like so well."  
  
"Ahhh." It was the sound of relief. "So you like me?"  
  
She laughed. "Apparently."  
  
"Why... apparently?" He raised his head and looked down at her.  
  
"Well, I suppose what I just allowed you to do with me must be some indication of an... attraction."  
  
"If that's attraction, Marron, I wonder what your enravishment would be."  
  
He turned to lie beside her and lifted the quilt carefully against the night air. He took her back into his arms and held her as he had at first, but this time his hand cupped her bare skin. "Are you enjoying the fireworks?"  
  
She bubbled with laughter. "What if there's been an unusual display and we're asked about it?"  
  
"I would say there's been a very unusual display. Why didn't you tell me that you were inexperienced?" he asked, his voice very tender and rough.  
  
"Well, I don't recall that you inquired."  
  
"Is that all right?"  
  
"Oh, Trunks, you were simply terrific."  
  
"It's the ring. I told you it was particularly needed for a deeply rooted problem. The problem began when I first saw you."  
  
"What other clever approaches do you use on stray and lonely women?"  
  
"Are you stray and lonely?" he asked quite seriously.  
  
"I was." Then she had to know. "Was I dreadfully inept?"  
  
"You are perfect."  
  
"I've heard of tricks that women use..."  
  
"Do you want to use tricks on me?" The rumble of his voice was a little reedy, as if he might have become hoarse.  
  
"Well, you did all those nice things to m..."  
  
"I think I should have stayed out of the contests today," he said with thoughtful humor. Then he kissed her and held her tightly. "Let's stay the night here, okay?"  
  
"No one would mind? Would it be all right?"  
  
"I believe it will be paradise."  
  
They lay snuggled beneath the Floating Lilies quilt, the breeze gentle in the starlit night, and she said with some surprise, "They stopped the fireworks! How frugal to have so few!" Then she noticed his laughter and sat up. "What's so funny? Everyone's gone!"  
  
"I believe we've been... distracted."  
  
"Oh." There was a little silence. "I don't feel... different." He hugged her silently and kissed her temple. She looked around. "It's nice out here."  
  
"It's nice anywhere." His low deep rumble was amused and he yawned.  
  
"Silly. I mean being out under the sky and sleeping on the ground. I never camped anywhere, did you?"  
  
"Too much," he said sleepily.  
  
After a little silence she said, "This has been an unusual day for me." There was that word unusual again. He didn't reply. She looked at him lying there next to her side, and she realized he was asleep!  
  
How could he possibly go to sleep? Well, of course he'd had a very strenuous day. He was such a good and interesting man. She speculated what he might do to make living. He'd said something about troubleshooting. She wondered if he was a government agent of some kind. He didn't look anonymous enough for her idea of a government agent. The breeze was just exactly cool enough so that she was cozy lying under his quilt. What shocking uses for such works of art! What a delicious image to lie between two quilts with a naked man!  
  
Imagine little Marron Chestnut being in such a situation. She never giggled, but she had to smother one now. She smiled up at the stars. Her body was so contented. She stretched just a bit and took a deep breath of country air. It smelled just the same as it did in Peach. Of course Peach was a country town. Her dying town. Thinking of the town, gradually emptying, she sighed a deep sad sigh.  
  
Even in his sleep Trunks was acutely aware her and he heard the sigh in his subconscious. The sad sound of it roused him. "Are you all right?"  
  
"Oh, yes." She was wakeful, so she was pleased that she had his attention and hurried into speech before he went back to sleep. "Just look at all the stars. They're thick! There are so many I don't think we're unique." She chose the word as an alternate selection to unusual.  
  
"I may not be unique, but you sure are." His hands moved on her pliant body as he hugged her.  
  
"I meant," she explained, "as a world. With all those stars there are bound to be other-" But he had kissed her, rather effectively silencing her dissertation of worlds on beyond.  
  
Eventually he lifted his mouth from hers and looked at her in the rising moonlight. "I'm glad we're here at this place, by this lake, in this world."  
  
The quilt was somehow down around her waist by then. He lifted the covering in order to look at her lying there, but she was embarrassed and curled to him to hide her body from his eyes. However, she did smile.  
  
"Don't be shy with me. You are so beautiful. You fill me with amazement that any woman could be so beautiful. I just want to stare at you." But he was kissing her then, moving his tongue to her ear, his hands relishing the feel of her. In some wonder his voice said the classic line, "It's never been like this."  
  
Since she didn't have any experience to know that it was a line well honed and often so casually used, she didn't realize that Trunks said it in astonishment, and she accepted his words as they were meant: it was never like this before for him. While it awed him, it scared her. A brief lick of caution went through her stomach, but it was immediately chased off by the sensations he was so skillfully building.  
  
He breathed so hotly along her ear that it excited her. He seemed so... so... male. Her head went back as her fingers dug into his hair. She said, "Golly..."  
  
He paused, then he put back his head and laughed.  
  
She stiffened, "What's so funny?"  
  
"Golly?"  
  
"What's wrong with that? She was becoming hostile.  
  
"No 'gee whiz'?" He was delighted with his little anachronism. A moon maiden who said golly? He leaned back down as he chuckled in his tenderness for her.  
  
But she pushed against him, offended. "What am I supposed to say? I'm sorry I don't know the rules!"  
  
And he realized he'd committed a mistake. "Oh, honey, it was just so sweet. I wasn't laughing at you! I was so... charmed by you."  
  
"So you laughed. It will make an excellent story for you. You got this country girl out between two quilts you bought at the county fair, and you were making love to her, she said - get this - she said, 'Golly!' " And she hiccuped a sob and she began to cry.  
  
Even that charmed him. "Oh, my dear heart." His confirmed bachelor's mind was stunned and said, whoa! Which probably indicated how much he was attuned to the situation. But his impulsively tender tongue went on. "How could I laugh at anything so sweet and beautiful as you? A woman I had to fight a challenge for to win the magic ring? Who wore my favors in her hair?" He was rather amazed and pleased his tongue could be so glib. But his heart meant it all.  
  
She took a shaky breath. Her eyes were sad and her mouth very small and tight. The moonlight glinted on a tear, which tore his very heart. "Oh, my moon maiden," he groaned, kissing her so gently. He acted so cherishing that she believed him.  
  
His lips pulled quick kisses at her softening lips. "Say 'golly,' " he coaxed. "Say it for me. It will thrill me. It's a sweet word to me. It gives me courage that you like me and want me. That you are thrilled by me. Say it for me."  
  
"Oh, Trunks..." She was almost in despair. But thought this whole thing was getting far beyond all sanity.  
  
But his deep rumbling voice wouldn't accept the substitute. "Say it." He kissed her mindless.  
  
She tried to hold her heavy head steady as she curled to him, her fingers in his hair and moving to dig into his shoulders, and she gasped breathlessly, "G-golly."  
It was too perfect to relinquish. They lay spent. Their fingers patted or petted; mouths touched shoulders; heads moved to touch foreheads. They murmured sounds of shared pleasure as they sighed and smiled.  
  
He uttered the first actual word. "Beautiful."  
  
"Ummmmm." She almost said, "Unusual." Unusual was a good solid descriptive word, but it was inadequate for what they'd experienced. She lazily and somewhat bemusedly flipped through a catalogue of words and couldn't come up with anything worthwhile, so she just said, "Ummmmm" again. She thought of saying "golly" but avoided it. He might laugh again, and although she realized he had in fact been delighted with her saying the word, she thought laughter right then would be rather rude to the awesome feeling they shared. It was some time before they came back to reality. Their pettings and murmurings were quite sweetly done, and she felt very tender toward him. But her caution began to surface. That brought her attention to her position and conduct. And to the fact that she was on an... unusual holiday, and the time would come very soon when she would be returning to Peach and to her own life as it actually was. It was no anything like this day had been. She said prosaically, "I could use a hot shower."  
  
"How about a cool dip in the lake?"  
  
"I don't have a suit," was her quick reply.  
  
This time he swallowed the laugh, so his words sounded matter-of-fact. "We'll just go on in as we are."  
  
"Skinny-dip?" She was a little scandalized.  
  
He tried to make it easier for her. "I know what women look like, and Marron, you have no reason to be shy with me."  
  
His words would have been so logical if she'd been any woman, but she didn't really know what men looked like. She hesitated to mention that, since they'd been so... intimate. She was no longer an innocent, but she hadn't actually seen him. She was silent.  
  
In order to make her feel more at ease he put back the quilt and stood up slowly so that she wouldn't be alarmed by sudden moves. His manner meant to show her that nakedness wasn't shameful. He was beautiful, and she stared at him.  
  
He looked around the area, as men do in strange circumstances, then he held a hand down to help her to rise. She said, "You go ahead. I'll be right along."  
  
He paused, then went down the bank and walked into the water before he shoved off and swam out a way. She sat up to watch, and she saw the moonlight on the ripples he'd made and touch on the light oval of his head and his lavender head. A pagan god was bathing in the night's moonlit waters.  
  
He called softly, "Come along."  
  
She rose from their bed and, with her arms curled concealingly; she stepped with feminine grace through the weeds to the bank. He watched her and was filled with her beauty, but he saw that she moved her hands out in front of her. He called, "Down dive in!" catching her in time. She stopped as he scolded, "Never dive into unknown waters. It's too shallow there."  
  
"Is it cold?"  
  
"Only a little at first." he replied coaxingly. "Come on in."  
  
She stepped into the water and gave a muted shriek. Their sounds were magnified by the water and carried in the still summer night.  
  
She took another step and inhaled sharply. "A little cool?"  
  
"Don't just stand there! Swim! You'll warm up quickly then. Or I'll warm you up," he teased.  
  
She leaned forward in a shallow dive and swam strongly to the surface, blew and laughed. They played in the moonlight, avoiding the muddy bottom, and not going far from shore. He kept a close eye on her, for isolated swimming can be very dangerous.  
  
They warmed, playing, and as they rested, squatting in the shallows, he coaxed her to stand up. "I want to see my water nymph."  
  
She protested, but he cajoled so well that she divided her hair and pulled it forward so that it covered her breasts. She stood up in the water, which came halfway up her hips. It was the boldest thing she'd ever done in all her life. She reached her hands to smooth her hair over her breasts as she laughed up and started up from the water.  
  
That's when the camera flash shattered the night.  
  
+++  
  
This chapter was hard to write with the ban and all. Not that I think this is NC-17 stuff. I'm not good with graphic scenes although I can write fairly good fluffy ones. Still, I feel that this chapter was cannibalized (by me). Anyway, tell me what you think about it. Onegaishimasu! 


	6. Stolen Day

Fair 6  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  
+++  
  
Marron heard Trunks roar like a lion as her surged past her through the water and went toward the bank with an additional excessively threatening snarl that promised mayhem and a rendering of limbs. She had a brief feeling of alarm for the victim.  
  
She heard a scrabble in the grass and an exclamation of astonishment, then a sharp protest voiced by a stranger. There was a thrashing sound that receded away from her, through the trees and back toward the fair, and it was accompanied be more strident objections.  
  
Very much aware of her unclothed state, Marron scrunched down to scuttle out of the water. Shivering, she went over to their bed, where she snatched her gown and pulled it over her head. She fumbled around before she found her moccasins and thrust her wet muddy feet into them. All the while she darted her frantic eyes around her, but she saw no one. She fled, with her wet hair running cold streams down her chilled body, her dress dampened, as her movements caused it to rub against her and her breath rasping in shock and with her struggle to run on such uneven ground.  
  
She didn't go back the way they had come, but, thinking only of her escape she went around the lake the other way which took her past the two greased poles and on toward Emma. The parking area was not quite empty. If she had considered, she might have wondered why a surprising number of cars remained. But there was Emma, patiently waiting, looking quite secure and protected next to Trunks' Muscle Machine. Marron touched Emma's fender as one would a loyal servant, and reached under the bumper for the spare key.  
  
Emma was a little cranky at being disturbed, but she sighed and coughed into activity. Still in active flight, Marron backed from the space with an uncharacteristic recklessness, then zoomed from the field, bumped across the roadside ditch covered temporarily by a rough board bridge, to the dirt road. She sped down the road to the highway to turn right and vanish into the darkness.  
  
Marron didn't have coherent thoughts for some time because, with some incomprehensible trepidation, she looked into the rearview mirror, anticipating pursuit. None appeared. She roared through the night at fifty-seven miles per hour and her only object was to get away.  
  
She did. She didn't speculate on what exactly she was fleeing so drastically, or why, but she knew it was time for her to leave, and she had... quite finally.  
  
Marron was smart enough to still expect pursuit, so she didn't stop at any of the little towns but continued on down the highway through the village and for the next hour or so, until she came to Avocado at the border of Mango.  
  
Any of the little towns might well have motels, and did but too many women sign in at that time of night with ratty, lake-wet hair, wearing a long, ill-used gown clinging to their bare bodies with moccasins on dirty feet. She had needed a larger town so that she wouldn't be especially noticed.  
  
In her imagination she could hear her pursuers as they leaned casually against the desk and questioned the clerk. "A woman, blond hair, long dress and moccasins?"  
  
"Why do you want her?"  
  
"She was with a homicidal maniac who tried to make a man eat a camera with a zoom lens."  
  
She found a motel and was so casual that the clerk watched her with narrowed, suspicious eyes. He memorized her and put a secret mark by her name. Later he went out and verified the number on her license plate.  
  
In her room Marron stripped and then stood under the shower for along time. After that she went right to bed and fell into a very interesting sleep. Trunks starred in all of her dreams, which were quite vivid and like nothing she had ever dreamed in all her nights.  
  
The next day she bought a guidebook and as she wandered unseeingly around Avocado, she accepted the complete responsibility for all the events of the previous day with maturity and good reason.  
  
None of what had happened had been Trunks' fault. Her conduct had become quite strange before she had ever Peach and with uncharacteristic impulsiveness gone to a strange county fair. She had no excuse for what she had perpetrated. Trunks bore no blame whatsoever. He didn't lure her into that stolen day. It had been an unusual set of circumstances all coming together with unpredictable results. Her life, her strange restlessness, the urgings for her to marry Sharpener, and the responsibilities that burdened her had ballooned out of all proportion. It was remarkable set of varying problems that had exactly coincided. It hadn't been "fate" but her leaving on the holiday, her turning off to see the fair, and her allowing Trunks to share her stolen day. It had all been her free choice.  
  
And she regretted none of it.  
  
She had known Trunks was special from the moment she'd seen him so effortlessly crawl out of that Muscle Machine and straighten so easily with lazy challenge in his vivid blue eyes. The next thing that tempted her had been the humor that lurked in those eyes, around that masculine mouth and in his husky, deep voice. That and the feeling she had of adventure in him.  
  
Look how quickly she had though of him as a pirate, as a man who knew women well; a man who had seen so much and who had so incidentally come into her life. How could she have allowed the chance to experience being with him pass her by? Just remember how he'd looked at her in those first few moments sent a sharp thrill spiraling down to places deep inside her. Silently she groaned for the loss of him.  
  
Eventually she found herself back in her motel room and decided that if she was actually being followed, to stay in one place was pushing her luck. Feeling very clever, she paid the overcharge and moved t another motel. She bought the Sunday paper and had dinner, then went back to her room and to bed. Her brain went on discussing her conduct, her life and times.  
  
As much as she'd treasure that day with him, Trunks was out of her league. She was a small-town woman. He was of the world. If she saw him again, they would both try uselessly to prolong their association. They would make delicious life more times... She laid a hand on her stomach as grief twisted in her body.  
  
But she knew as surely as she lay in that motel bed that their efforts to stay together and make something of their relationship would gradually deteriorate. He wouldn't live contentedly in Peach. He couldn't. That would be just like trying to tame a lion and force him to live out hie life in one small cage. How could she do that to such a man? He needed to be free. And she needed to go back to her... she almost said duties.  
  
Marron slept restlessly that night. Her body's wakened hungers haunted her sleep with exquisite detail. In her dreams Trunks smiled and took her into his strong arms. His hard hands moved as he chose and he touched her lips with his as her body burned. But he only teased her. He would take her into his arms and set her afire but he wouldn't get on with it! When she writhed with frustration and became angry, he laughed in triumph.. She couldn't see anything funny at all and tried to put her arms around him to coax him, but there were numberless other people around and she had trouble getting Trunks to realize that she wanted to be alone with it. He kept asking why, in an extremely dense way, and he'd ask what was the matter. But he asked the question in front of faceless people who appeared to be politely interested in her reasons. She wakened too early, still tired, and more than a little disgruntled.  
  
Even after she'd showered and dressed, it was still too early for the coffee shop to open for breakfast, so she read yesterday's Sunday paper. Her horoscope said she should examine legal papers carefully, watch her health and be cautious of strangers. That advice came a little late, she decided.  
  
She scanned the headlines, and the reports on the fall soccer teams, and then went to the Living section, where that week's story was on county fairs. She shook out the paper and smiled a little, thinking how appropriate it was. And there... right there... on the front page was a picture of a woman standing to her hips in the water, at night, and looking at a man who was erupting from the lake in front of her and laughing as his wicked eyes - it was Trunks! And the woman was... she. If that was Trunks, the woman was Marron Chestnut!  
  
She leaped from her chair, thrusting the paper aside, and paced around in agitation, her hand often to her forehead. In all the history of the Chestnuts of Peach, there never had been a scandal. Not a public one. And now here was the last of Peach's Chestnuts naked on the front page of a newspaper!  
  
Her heart thundered, her face burned with shame. All the admonitions on conduct she'd learned all her life crowded in for rapid replay at an advanced speed.  
  
She turned and set her eyes on the abandoned newspaper. She went to it and smoothed it out to look at it sensibly. The picture was of Trunks' face as he erupted from the water; his arms outspread, the water flying off him in droplets caught in midair by the camera's flash. He was laughing and the flash caught his eyes, making them opaque. Turnks looked like a mythical god sporting in the water with an unwary human woman.  
  
In a neutral way Marron then looked at herself- the nude woman who stood so femininely in front of trunks. It was a lovely picture of a woman's body. She was standing there with the back of her body naked down to the only pair of dimples she possessed. All it actually showed was the bowed head, the arms up as she made sure her long wet hair had covered her breasts. There was no way to identify the picture as being one of Marron Chestnut of Peach, Mango.  
  
It was simply a beautiful picture of her. And she looked at it, and at Trunks' move toward her - frozen by the camera- and she hated the cameraman. How dare he intrude on their idyll? How dare he spoil the last of her glorious stolen day? A tear or two welled in her eyes.  
  
Eventually Marron folded the paper neatly, left her room and went to breakfast. She could only eat minimally. Then she encouraged herself to wander around. The town was mostly wasted on her, for her mind wasn't on the sightseeing. She decided she was glad the picture had been printed. She could have one of Trunks to remember him, to moon over in her old age, there in Peach, probably the last living resident, and she pictured herself as a bent figure making her way along the town's deserted streets.  
  
But when she returned to her room it was neatly made up and the paper had been thrown away! In panic she went to the desk and inquired, with commendable casualness, "I wonder if you would have a copy of Sunday's paper."  
  
"I'll look." The clerk smiled. As Marron waited, he called someone on the house phone, then said regretfully. "I'm sorry, we don't have a copy. But you can go down to the newspaper offices, on Main Street by the hospital, and buy a back issue."  
  
"It's not that important." She dismissed the idea. "Thanks anyway."  
  
Almost immediately she drove downtown, found Main Street, then the hospital, and only had to go around one block, to backtrack, before she located the entrance to the newspaper offices. Mumbling about an article she needed for a research paper, she bought four copies of the entire paper and walked out clutching them to her chest.  
  
She returned to her motel, and since no one else would be in her room, she took one of the pictures and, with two safety pins, fitted it nicely into the frame on the wall over a bland river scene. Then she lay back on the bed and looked at it.  
  
She saw his laughing face and the intentness of his eyes riveted on her. The picture froze the surge of movement as he reached his arms out and forward toward her as he came from the water. His body was almost immodest, as the picture showed his magnificent male musculature and the power of his chest and widespread arms, the purpose of his movement toward her was obvious and held there motionless. Aesthetically it was a fantastic picture, capturing balance and emotion.  
  
The sheets of water that fell from him were perfectly caught by the camera's light against the blackness of the night. It was like a magical garment of a woodland prince who had a strange big ring on his finger. The beaded dots showed the force of his action - but also that her capture could never be completed. Sadness swamped through her for the interrupted end of her stolen day. She had another terrible night. She was restless and grieving. She rose early and put the pictures safely into her suitcase. Then she added the rest of the papers, because she'd told the clerk it wasn't important. The maid would probably make some mention of her having four copies of the Sunday paper in her room after throwing one away and would speculate about what she had been looking for. They'd then turn through the papers, find the Living section missing and go down to the offices, where they'd buy another copy, find the picture of Trunks, and remember she had been that size and had blond hair. They'd then realize she had been the one in tat picture! They would know she was Marron Chestnut of Peach, Mango, all because she'd signed her real name to the motel register. Good grief, she chided herself. How silly.  
  
She finished packing, had breakfast, paid her tab and left, driving west Mango. But by the time she neared Melon, she turned back northeast and searched out the byway she'd driven down all those days ago. Eventually, after much backtracking and trying to remember, she did find the turnoff. At last she came to the deserted, trampled field.  
  
Even the greased poles and the barrels the teams had washed in were gone. The fence had been restored. In her summer suit and heels Marron climbed through the fence and walked slowly along the lake, remembering, feeling very poignant, nostalgic and she rather wallowed in it all.  
  
She stood and looked around with sad eyes. A car slowly drove by, and she glanced quickly at ii. But it was the wrong kind. She picked her way along the lakeshore and, of course, she walked around to where she and Trunks had lain in each other's arms.  
  
The straw was still there. She stood, suffering, and she nudged it with the toe of her shoe. Then she stooped and took a shaft of it to put with the picture for her memories.  
  
Since she was honest, she realized it had been best that their separation had happened exactly as it had. This way there had been no lingering goodbyes or struggles to prolong something that could never be. The only trouble was that she would like to know what would happen to him in the years to come. If he would ever marry, and how much he would like to see - form a discrete distance - his children, and to watch how they fared. But he would probably never marry. He was of a breed of men that no one can successfully domesticate. They are adventurers, the discoverers who want to see what is over yonder hill and on beyond and who come back and are alien creatures thrust into other people's placid lives. She shed a tear.  
  
She stood looking down at the straw and remembered what it had been like to be against his hot body, with his strong arms grasping her to him as his mouth took hers. She groaned and leaned her head down to her hands in grief.  
  
Such men were created to briefly lure a maiden's heart to flee wit him, nut a smart woman didn't tag along, becoming excess baggage for a progressively indifferent adventurer. She chose instead to marry... Sharpener?  
  
In a blue fog, she wandered back around the other bank of the lake along which she'd fled just days ago. Then, with all the tents and activity, the music and banners and Trunks it had been a peopled place. Now it was just an empty field with a lake and trees. She came to the place of the greased poles and remembered Trunks as he helped Uub, his erstwhile enemy.  
  
She passed where the logs still lay in the lake and she remembered Trunks n the water, helpless with laughter. She smiled wanly. She again saw him coming to her, wet and dripping, to lean down and kiss her. She even went to where the tents and booths had been and tried to judge where that bell had stood within the fence, but she couldn't be exact. She thought how cleverly Trunks had defused Uub's strident combativeness and turned it into competition.  
  
Who would she ever know that she could talk to about him? No one. How could she confide such actions, and just what could she actually say? "I went to a county fair, over in Apricot, I met a man that morning and I lay with him." She could never tell anyone about any of it. She didn't even have a peacock feather left.  
  
While she would never see Trunks Briefs again, she had lived a stolen day with him. She had tasted a different kind of life. She would go back to her safe little town, to a known existence, and be there all the rest of her life, safe and secure, dying with the town.  
  
Another car went by as she turned back to the fence, but a glance showed her that it wasn't a black Muscle Machine. She waited until it turned to the highway so she could modestly crawl through the fence and go back to Emma, who again waited patiently.  
  
She drove back toward Peach, sunk in a verifying melancholy. She altered her route home to drive by each of the three farms she had inherited. They were shock-full of soybeans and corn. The wood lots were healthy, the fences neat, the weeds mowed. She rented the land out, and the people who used her land were diligent farmers.  
  
Then she drove into town and slowly circled the square. The courthouse and more than half of the stores facing the square were empty. There was nothing to attract new people into town.  
  
She drove on to her own street and looked at her own house with the eyes of a traveler who had been in the far land. There it stood, solid, small, tall, thin, not pretty but spare. There were five rooms downstairs and two enormous bedrooms upstairs. The sewing room had been converted into two baths many years ago, and her mother and father had split one big bedroom into two when Marron was eight.  
  
It was rather a prim house. One that suited an old maid. Easy to keep up. But then she had the income to do it. She drove through the opening in the front hedge, which really should be trimmed back, and there, mowing her lawn bare-chested and in shorts, was Trunks Briefs. 


	7. Saying Goodbye

Fair 7  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  
+++  
  
It is one thing to decide on a thoughtful - and final - goodbye to an impossible relationship, and adjust to that logic with maturity, but it is another thing altogether to see that relinquished dram turn up where he has no business at all.  
  
At the sight of Trunks Briefs mowing her lawn, Marron neglected to readjust her steering wheel and thus ran Emma into the rose bush by the porch. Emma screeched like a wounded cat as the paint along her right side was scraped. Marron slammed on the brakes and tried to gently back Emma from the bush, but another shriek sounded.  
  
Marron stopped, leaving her car as it was until she could deal with it alone, and not with Trunks standing there with his hands on his hips and grinning that wicked, wicked grin.  
  
He opened Emmy's door and offered Marron a hand to help her out as he said, "You took your own sweet time getting here."  
  
She sputtered, "How did you ever in this world find me? I never told you any last name or the name of my town and..."  
  
"Emma told me." His eyes checked out to see if Marron was still he'd dreamed.  
  
"Emma!" She thought he was being silly and she was annoyed enough as it was.  
  
"Her li-" he began.  
  
"License! You had it traced! What are you doing here?"  
  
"I've decided I'll marry you."  
  
"Mar- mar-"  
  
"There's that vocal motor acting up, not able to do anything but sputter. Here, I'll fix it." He backed her against Emma's side and he kissed her, holding her bottom in both of his big hands. Making sounds deep in his throat, he kissed her some more.  
  
Her last thought for that time was, How shocking that he's here.  
  
He lifted his mouth and looked into her big blue eyes and said, "It's taken you forever to get home. Why did you take so long?"  
  
"I was evaluating our relationship and, realizing it would never work, I was giving you up."  
  
"Foolish woman." He kissed her again, pressing close to her, helplessly trapping her against Emma as he ran his hands up the sides of her body to the sides of her breasts and then back down her hips. Inhaling deeply, he said, "Come on inside."  
  
Marron allowed Trunks to take her hand. He led her up the porch steps, where he shed his grassy shoes. Her mind registered that the door was unlocked before he took her inside, up the stairs, and to her big bedroom and to the bed, on which was the Paw Prints quilt. She realized what was happening to that point, but then her response to him took over and she was no longer reliable.  
  
He came to say goodbye, she thought as he eased her out of her clothes. This is a better way. Our separation was too abrupt. This is more tender.  
  
He tore off his own trousers and lay down on the bed with her.  
  
She had assumed their coupling would be poignant lovemaking that regretfully would be the last time. A rose of love to be pressed in memory. It wasn't like that at all. It was feverishly breathless, panting need, rubbing hands, and frantic fingers. It was starved bodies and hungry kisses. It was a wildly furious, scrambling love that filmed them with sweat amid tore the bed apart.  
  
They lay spent, and now that she was replete, she was just a little ticked off that he'd led her into such a maelstrom for their last time, for she had wanted sweet and tender love. Not that basic, brawling, animalistic mating. But her eyes were heavy and she smiled.  
  
"I missed you." His deep voice was reedy with emotion. He lay facing her, and his hand pushed the hair back from her face. "Why did you run off that way?"  
  
"That cameraman! Do you know the picture was in the Avocado paper?" She was aghast.  
  
"The original is so beautiful. Wait till you see our copy."  
  
"Our copy?"  
  
"Yeah. After I smashed what I thought was his only camera, he managed to make me listen to reason. When I found you and Emma gone, I went wit him to a darkroom, where he developed the pictures. I selected those he could use, and in return he printed up the rest. That way I signed a release for us..."  
  
"Us?"  
  
"Umm. The others will be part of a County Fair series he's doing."  
  
"And... that one?"  
  
"Your back is just glorious. Do you know that? That's a brilliant picture, Marron. You have to know that. He's an artist. I took out those pictures where you could be identified. I know you're a little shy, but wait till you see the ones I have. I'd show you know, but I've been in some sort of near-fatal collision and I can barely move."  
  
"He's going to publish pictures of us?" Her voice was the clam that can be so dangerous.  
  
He smiled lazily in contentment and said, "It'll be fine. And the pictures are really excellent. He's a great photographer. An artist."  
  
"I will not have my picture spread all over some publication!"  
  
"These will be all right. You'll see."  
  
"How dare you decide without my consent!"  
  
"Are you feeling chagrined?"  
  
"Quite hostile," she snapped. "It wasn't a decision you had permission to make for me. I will not allow this."  
  
"There isn't one of those pictures to be published that can be identified as you. Relax. I made the decision as you intended. I knew you aren't the kind of woman to sleep with just any man. So I know we'll marry."  
  
"We shall not," she told him, lying there naked on the Paw Prints quilt, in the disordered bed and nose to nose.  
  
"You just haven't adjusted to the idea. You have to remember the ting. Did you notice I've had it reset?"  
  
She watched in amazement as he removed the ring from his finger and showed it to her. It was still that same strange ugly lumpy green stone, but the setting was now a very masculine platinum. "You had that stone reset?" She couldn't believe it.  
  
Complacently, he replied, "The jeweler said he'd never seen anything quite like it."  
  
She blinked at him, then laughed. She rolled over on her back to have the room for her surprised lungs, as she laughed hard.  
  
Leaning up on his elbow, Trunks gave her a big smile. Then he put the ring back on his finger and she continued to laugh. She repeated, "He'd never seen anything quite like it! I should think not!"  
  
"I explained that it's magic, and that fascinated him."  
  
"Tell me you didn't go to Mr. Oolong!"  
  
"Why, yes, as a matter of fact I did. He didn't have a suitable setting and we had to special order one. The whole thing quite delighted him."  
  
She was still laughing, but she shook her head. "And you had it set in platinum."  
  
"The stone was lost to us for many centuries. I needed a more secure setting."  
  
More sober but still amused, she asked, "And do you really think it's magic?" She was sure that he would laugh.  
  
His voice as soft as it could be, he replied, "Yes. I'm here with you." His face was serious and so tender. He leaned and kissed her. Then he raised his mouth and his lashes veiled the electric blue of his wicked eyes. "It is the magic of perfect love and quests. With it, I'm invincible and nothing is impossible."  
  
"I believe you aren't playing with a full deck." She lay on his quilt, watching him, the laughter bone, her eyes solemn. She thought he still looked like a pirate. Who ever heard of a pirate believing in a magic ring? She licked her upper lip and took a breath to speak, but he leaned and kissed her again.  
  
His kiss was gentle, searching and quite skilled. That was one thing about sailors who sailed the seven seas and had a girl at every port; they did know about kissing and... other things. He put his big rough hand on her tender stomach and rubbed it, first gently, then more firmly as he kissed her again.  
  
It felt marvelous, and she made a long sound of pleasure. That only encouraged him. The rubbing hand moved, enjoying the hills and valleys of her body, the feel of her. His kiss went on forever and was interspaced with nips, pilling at her lower lip. He took handfuls of her hair and crushed the silken mass in his fingers. He put his hand to her hip, turned her to him and moved his hand in strokes and swirls from her nape to her rounded bottom as he worked on her ear with a knowledgeable tongue.  
  
Then he gave her a rather extended lesson in allowing her tongue to engage in his in a series of marvelously sensual encounters, and she became languid, while became tense and earnest. His fingers curled around her and reached to touch. His tongue teased her. His hands stroked and he became heated with his renewed desire.  
  
She stretched and turned with sensual lethargy and made him tremble. Her mouth held a tiny smile, and her eyes were teasing with heavy lids with long lashes.  
  
She was pleased. This was the way their goodbye should be, with long, slow lovemaking. An exquisitely tender emotion governing each touch, each kiss, each movement. This was the perfect goodbye.  
  
With endless time to relish all their touchings, he made love to her. And she accepted it as his farewell gift. To cherish. She was very accepting. He was very giving. They made beautiful love.  
  
Then they slept awhile. Curled naked together on a hot July day on top of the Paw Prints quilt, which had a strange aphrodisiacal influence.  
  
They wakened abruptly to the slam of the front screen door and a female voice calling, "Hey you two!"  
  
Marron jerked her head over and looked with wide, shocked eyes at Trunks. "It's my cousin!" She gasped.  
  
Quite ordinarily he agreed, "Paresu."  
  
"How did you know her name?"  
  
"She introduced herself."  
  
"What- "  
  
From the bottom of the stairs came Paresu's amused voice/ "Am I interrupting anything?"  
  
"No!" Marron panicked. "I'll be right there!" Through her teeth she snapped at Trunks, "Get dressed."  
  
"Well, of course," he replied virtuously. "I would never go down like this."  
  
Marron scrambled off the bed and tiptoed over to ease open the heavy walnut drawer. She snatched out a pair of shorts to drag them on quickly, then sorted out a knitted top, which he pulled, over her head. She looked at herself in the mirror and realized she would never fool Paresu. Her eyes were heavy, her mouth looked excessively kissed, and her hair was a mess. She attacked her mane with a brush and looked over Trunks, who was calmly putting on his shorts. She hissed, "You stay up here."  
  
He smiled with such amusement. "Caught."  
  
She glared, took a bracing breath and marched barefooted out of the room, with Trunks right behind her, ignoring her commanding stare. They went downstairs to a laughing Paresu.  
  
Paresu was Marron's last relative in Peach and was soon to leave for bigger and better things. She was tall and slender, vital and alive, with brown hair and brown eyes. She said, with only fair control of her humor and questioningly arched brows, "I can't imagine what's going on here, but it looks shocking!"  
  
Stiffly Marron replied, "Nothing's 'going on,' Paresu! Don't be silly!"  
  
Paresu laughed and flipped back her long brown hair. "A while ago, I came along, saw your car in the bushes and the lawnmower stopped in the middle of the yard. I come back two hours later and it's till the same way. I find that almost as interesting as seeing you downstairs barefooted and braless! What brought on this remarkable metamorphosis? Don't tell me. Let me guess. A magic ring!"  
  
"Good grief!" Marron sputtered.  
  
Her cousin greeted her cohort, "Hello Trunks. Going pretty good, huh."  
  
"Tolerably," he replied lazily, and yawned. Paresu thought that excessively funny, and Trunks grinned as he said to Marron, I'll go move your car and finish the yard, and with a wink at Paresu, he went out of the screen door, stepped into his discarded shoes and down the porch steps.  
  
Paresu turned to Marron, "Well, darling, you're proof that we never really know one another, any of us humans. How remarkable! When you come out of your shell, you don't fool around!"  
  
It's not at all like that," she began primly.  
  
Paresu laughed. "You lucky, lucky woman. He tells me you found him at a carnival over in Apricot..."  
  
It was a very nice county fair," Marron corrected.  
  
"I'm going to start going to fairs. What a prize! Marron, you lucky dog, you!"  
  
Paresu, there's nothing in this. He will be leaving right away. He simply came to say goodbye."  
  
"Sure."  
  
"I mean it. We are two very different people and- "  
  
"Very nicely different."  
  
"You have always had a rather crude way of putting things, Paresu, and you are very mistaken in this."  
  
"Sure."  
  
"I am telling you the truth. We were just now... saying goodbye."  
  
"And with that done, he goes out and finishes mowing the yard? Yeah, sure."  
  
"You don't understand any of this."  
  
Paresu laughed. "Come on and fix a farewell glass of tea for us all."  
  
"So you're leaving." Marron had turned toward the kitchen but stopped to look sadly at her cousin.  
  
"Actually, Trunks' talked me into waiting awhile."  
  
Lightning flared in Marron's blue eyes. "You?"  
  
Her eyes lazy, Paresu replied, "I."  
  
Trunks had been in Peach for several days. He was a fast worker. He... She...  
  
"He's dating you?" Marron couldn't exhale. Her face was sheet white, her eyes enormous, her hand on her heart.  
  
Quite kindly, Paresu touched Marron's shoulder as she said, "No, of course not. He said there will be changes in Peach and I ought to stick around and see them. So I thought I would. He's quite zonked by you, you know. Has he shown you the pictures? Or has he gotten around to that yet?"  
  
"P-pictures?"  
  
"That remarkable one of you standing in the water and him going for you. It's fantastic."  
  
"He showed it to you?" She was appalled.  
  
"After I questioned his right to move into your house."  
  
"You let him in?"  
  
"He'd picked the lock. When he knew my name I let the local militia I'd summoned go back to the nursing home and allowed Trunks time to prove his story. He showed me that marvelous picture. You know, Cousin, there's hope for you."  
  
"How could he have known your name?" Marron asked as she again turned toward the kitchen to make the tea.  
  
Following, Paresu suggested, "You told him."  
  
"I very carefully did not. Nor mine, but he had my license traced."  
  
"Clever man."  
  
"Perhaps extra so."  
  
"You think he's a fortune hunter?" Paresu frowned.  
  
"How depressing"  
  
"You've had fortune hunters before."  
  
Marron nodded as her eyes moved to the open window to where the mower sounded. She said sadly, "But this time was so... impulsive and innocent."  
  
Paresu chuckled. "Innocent? I saw the picture."  
  
"It was the day. A day stolen from reality. It was so special. Now he's come and moved in and it will be spoiled."  
  
"This is different. You still have that day."  
  
"He hasn't a job."  
  
"Sometimes they make life interesting and worthwhile." Paresu was setting out the glasses. "Not everyone has to be a steamroller corporate mover and shaper. He's already changed your life. Ride along for a while and see what happens."  
  
"Nothing will happen. We've said goodbye, and he will be leaving."  
  
"This episode between you two has certainly brightened our lives here in Peach."  
  
Marron gaped, "Everyone knows?"  
  
"He met all the neighbors in the first two days. He's been everywhere. Interested in the town, asking questions, meeting people."  
  
"Assessing what I own."  
  
Paresu shrugged. "Possibly."  
  
Marron removed the covering from a silver tray and set the pitcher of tea on it, adding the ice-filled glasses, the sprigs of mint from a pot in a south window, and slices of lemon. She carried it out, as Paresu held the side door, and they settled it on a wicker table on the side porch. Trunks saw them, gestured to indicate he had only a little more to do and would finish quickly.  
  
"He isn't lazy. It might be nice to have a handyman around. He fixed the lattice on your drying porch."  
  
"He's still 'trying out.' Men do all sorts of things to attract a woman's fancy. I know about that. Remember that guy a few summers ago?"  
  
"Not all men are like that."  
  
"He was going to sue me for 10 million dollars, saying that I'd broken his heart."  
  
"At least Mrs. Kan tied a can to his tail."  
  
"I forgave her for being so blatant about eavesdropping after that. If it hadn't been for her hearing me object and coming to the door, he'd have stayed that night. He had it all set up, and he'd intended taking pictures." She turned horrified eyes toward Paresu. "Do you suppose Trunks..."  
  
"I would bet my life on Trunks being straight, honest and honorable."  
  
"Why, Paresu!"  
  
Trunks came up to a porch drying hi chest with a towel, for he'd hosed off after he finished mowing. He was barefooted again, and he flopped down onto the empty wicker chair and sighed. "There's sure a lot of chores around here, Miss Chestnut, ma'am, and if the work goes on this way, taking up all my time and all- serving you- I'll have to have a raise." He grinned wickedly.  
  
Marron was blushing again, and Paresu laughed. "I'll bet she'll pay-" Paresu thoughtlessly began, but Marron stabbed her with a shocked look and stopped her tongue.  
  
Trunks drank all of his tea then reached for the pitcher to refill his glass as he said, "Who's Sharpener? All your neighbors are glad you're getting married to me, but one or two wonder about Sharpener."  
  
"You told.." Marron gasped.  
  
"Honey, I had to. They did wonder why I'd moved in. Your little cousin here brought over a shriveled-up man she had to help up the curb- the law, he was- and even he wanted to know. And I had to shout it because he was so deaf, and Mrs. Kan heard, and soon everyone just knew." The words sounded like and explanation, but he was so amused.  
  
"Why did you come here?"  
  
"To marry you. So you can burn the peacock feathers. I brought them along, you know." "Did you?" She smiled a little.  
  
"Peacock feathers!" Paresu exclaimed. "With peacock feathers in a house, no one gets married."  
  
"He won five of them for me... that day."  
  
"She gave away three. I made her keep the last two."  
  
Paresu frowned. "So she- wouldn't marry?"  
  
"To keep her from marrying anyone until she married me." He explained quite reasonably.  
  
Paresu finished her tea and said to Marron, "I must go. I had to see you. You two have done so much to liven up the town. We're all grateful. Take care now." She grinned at Trunks, who rose in his marvelous effortlessness as she leaned to kiss Marron's cheek.  
  
"Did you drive?" Trunks inquired.  
  
"No. Not in Peach. No need to see me out." But he handed her down the steps. She looked back at Marron's and said, "He's worth it." Although she smiled, her eyes were serious.  
  
Paresu left and Trunks returned to the wicker chair next to Marron's and leaned to kiss her mouth but she turned her head. "You must leave, Trunks. We're creating a scandal. No Chestnut has ever been in such a scandal in the entire Peach history."  
  
"So you're a first," he congratulated her.  
  
"This is no time for jokes."  
  
They were silent. He was comfortable and contented. She was the opposite. She said, "You were very nice to fix the lattice."  
  
"You're welcome."  
  
"And the yard looks nice." He smiled at her. She went on, "But Mr. Shibafu earns a part of his living by mowing lawns, and you ought not to do it for him."  
  
"I paid him to let me. He said it was the week to mow it diagonally, but I said I couldn't do that because it tilted my equilibrium. He argued and said if I was going to mow it straight I had to pay him double, because it would throw off his schedule."  
  
Laughter bubbled from Marron, because she could actually see that exchange between Trunks and Mr. Shibafu.  
  
He had paused long enough, and he sighed and said, "So I did."  
  
"Trunks." She sobered. Having said only his name, she took a long breath to tell him again that he must leave.  
  
But he said, "Come see the pictures."  
  
He rose, pulled her to her feet and hugged her, but she squirmed and said, "They'll see us!"  
  
He grinned, opened the door and patted her bottom as she walked through it. He took the tray and carried it to the kitchen.  
  
As they went into the hall and on back to the morning room, he said, "We'll need a bigger house when we have the kids. We could buy the one next door from Mrs. Kan and she could move in with Mrs. Rinjin..."  
  
"They don't agree on anything!"  
  
"And we could keep this house as a guest house for when our families come to visit. We'd all be more comfortable that way."  
  
"I'm not going to marry you, Trunks."  
  
"Oh, not today!"  
  
"Nor any other..." But she stopped then, because the pictures were spread out all over the morning room. Enlarged, adhered to cardboard and covered with clear plastic, they were superb reminders of that shared day. She stood looking, and beside her he was silent.  
  
Finally, as she began to move around to pick up one, a marvelous shot of him swinging the sledgehammer, Trunks said, "You can see they must be shared." He lifted one of her holding the sleeping child, the peacock feathers in Marron's hair looked like a fairy crown. It was as if the moon maiden had come to bless an earth child.  
  
There was one of Trunks laughing helplessly in the water by the log, and one of the horse race and Marron tying a feather to the horse's mane. There was one of Trunks sopping wet from the log rolling and leaning to kiss Marron, who had lifted face to his. And there was the priceless one of them in the water.  
  
"These aren't the only pictures. These are only the ones of us. The others are equally beautiful. As you must see, the man has talent. Look at you!" Her silhouette was outlined against the sun-soaked field as she stood with the wind blowing her dress. "I wouldn't let him publish that one, and I regret it. He gave me the negative, and this is the only print."  
  
In the picture she was looking up at him, with the feathers in the back of her hat, her body outlined and her hand on his chest, like a beautifully bold and inviting woman. Had she looked like that to him? In a tiny voice she said, "I look like a hussy."  
  
"No, you look like a woman who likes a man. Me."  
  
"It was a very special day."  
  
"It was the start of my life."  
  
"Are you a fortune hunter?"  
  
He was so startled she couldn't know if it was because he was not, or if it was because she'd found him out. He finally said, "Do you believe I am?"  
  
"I don't know. I do have some property."  
  
He touched her cheek. "Would it bother you if I had no property?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Then this mat take a while." Quite confidently he leaned down and kissed her. They looked into each other's eyes for a long time before he said, "You do agree those other fair pictures are all right for the photographer to use?"  
  
"They're beautiful. I'm glad we have them."  
  
"So you agree?"  
  
"Yes. But when they're published everyone who was at the fair will remember about us. About... what we did."  
  
"They did the same thing. We drew lots for the sites. We didn't want to crowd each and I knew you'd be shy about undressing-" he heard her sharply indrawn breath "-where someone might see you... besides me."  
  
"They were all married here!" She protested, but then added, "No. Not Toby."  
  
He's to be married," Trunks told her. Softly he added, "We'll be married soon enough."  
  
"No."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"No. I will not marry you."  
  
"Why the hfil not?" He asked in a mild amused way.  
  
"I don't know you well enough."  
  
"You know me well enough to make love with me."  
  
"That's different."  
  
But he only laughed. He wasn't the least disturbed by her refusal. Why not? She wondered. Was he going to compromise her so thoroughly that she would have to marry him? She could not allow that to happen.  
  
Then to one side, on an end table, Marron saw the last two peacock feathers. He'd brought them to her! She took some comfort in the fact they were there in her house, protecting her from marriage.  
  
+++  
  
My imagination's running low today so the quickest solution to naming Marron's neighbors was to name them after the things they're associated with. Mrs. Kan got her name from "Kan" which is Japanese for the word can since she "tied a can to his tail." Are you still with me? "Shibafu" means "lawn" and "Rinjin" means neighbor. You can expect more of these things in the next chapters.  
  
I haven't addressed your reviews because I really don't know what to say except thank you. Also, that I really enjoy reading them and they do brighten up my day. The uni is. well not exactly the perfect world. What else? I have two more stories in my mind but I haven't gotten round to writing them. Describing things is exhausting. Also, I can only write when I'm completely alone, which is difficult since my sister is home and Leona is actually writing a paper on her pc! Do you think that my chapters are too long? Should I shorten them a bit? Not in this story but in the next one. Tell me what you think. Onegaishimasu? 


	8. Unwelcome guests and opinions

Fair 8  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  
+++  
  
Marron looked again at the fair pictures propped around her morning room. The very memory of that stolen day swamped her with something that was as debilitating as a bad case of flu. She turned to Trunks, the original subject of all those pictures, and knew he was more magnificent in real life.  
  
She asked, "Where did you learn to pick locks?"  
  
"Now don't look at me that way, Marron. I happen to know you can jump cars.  
  
"Who told you?" She was aghast. In high school she'd been in a group that stole a tombstone, and in putting it back, Kagi Kuruma had lost his car keys and smashed a couple of fingers. So he'd taught her, very impatiently, how to rewire the ignition as Mr. Taimatsu's flashlight came closer and closer, sweeping through the trees, across the graveyard. It still gave her nightmares. "No one left in Peach knows I can do that!" Her face went blank with horror. "You know Kagi Kuruma!" She put an appalled hand to her chest. His disruptive influence in Peach had been mercifully brief. "How did you meet him, for Pete's sake?" She thought he was safely in Romania.  
  
"I haven't yet, but I'm looking forward to it." He narrowed his eyes as if in a heads-will-roll manner, but it was to hide his amusement. "Who is Kagi Kuruma?"  
  
"Never mind." She slid a quick look at him and lifted her chin as the color flooded back to her cheeks, but she went back to the original subject. "How did you learn to pick locks?"  
  
"I'll tell you the entire hair-raising story right after I meet Kuruma." Having nicely blocked her, he returned to the living room, then paused to wait for her. She was now frowning and biting her lower lip.  
  
He leaned in the doorway, his hands in his pockets as he watched her. She was still barefooted. He noticed what small pretty feet she had, and her legs were slender and lovely. Her shorts had cuffs, and the pant legs were loose so that her thighs disappeared into them, but there was room for a hand to follow. He shifted, and his eyes lingered before they continued on up her body. Her form was beautiful. Her bottom was femininely rounded, her waist neat and small, her breasts were soft in that knit shirt, and her neck was delicate. Her face was gorgeous. Her mouth...  
  
She turned, caught his expression and her gaze clung to his. He watched as her nipples hardened. Then he went to her to take her into his arms and put one hand to the back of her neck to hold her against his kiss. When he lifted his mouth from hers he said, "There's no was I couldn't make love to you yet again."  
  
With blurred vision and pouting lips she replied slowly, "I don't remember requesting you to do that."  
  
He only laughed, softly, gently, and he hugged her to him in the nicest way.  
  
She said, "Who is cooking that maddening aroma?"  
  
"Hungry?"  
  
"Starved."  
  
"It just so happens, Marron, that I am a superb chef." "It isn't... hotdogs." She lifted her nose to sniff and identify.  
  
"NO. Sloppy Joes. In the slow cooker. It's been cooking all day, and by now it'll be a delicious, gooey mess. I do hope there's enough for you, too. Naw. I'm just kidding. I've made enough for two for days- waiting for you to show up. So there's plenty."  
  
"You do have hamburger buns?"  
  
"Of course!" He was shocked. "I'm a purist."  
  
Dinner was no problem, but bedtime was.  
  
"You cannot spend the night," she said firmly, as they set about clearing up the kitchen.  
  
He couldn't see why not. "I've been here for darned near a whole week," he complained. "It would be silly for me to move out now. And..." He smiled suddenly. "My car's in the shop." He stopped to an ah-ha manner and challenged her to rebut. "I can't get to a motel."  
  
"You can borrow Emma."  
  
"Why, Marron, you know when single people drive one another's cars it's serious! And anyway, where would I go? There's not a motel around anywhere reasonably close."  
  
"Yes there is. There're the motor cabins at the crossroad."  
  
"Now how could I throw the Yados into a regular tizzy this time of night getting a cabin ready for an actual person? They've lived there contentedly all this time, with those cabins available for a chance wayfarer, and the feeling they're living by the side of the road being a friend to man - safely - and I show up! No warning. They'd probably have a heart attack, and it would ruin their complacent story about how long it's been since anyone stopped. And it's late. That's fifteen miles away. I'd go to sleep at the wheel, I'm so tired. I can't go to old Mrs. Kan for shelter in order to save your already besmirched reputation."  
  
"Besmirched?" She straightened and flared.  
  
Slyly he put in, "Kagi Kuruma."  
  
She blushed horribly.  
  
"Did you serve time for that?" He inquired as if he didn't know all about that hilarious night and what a dreadful time Mr. Taimatsu had delaying so the two could escape. "As I recall, you said you Chestnuts never had any public scandal. Did Papa pay a little hush money somewhere in your career? What in the world have you been up to, Marron?  
  
She straightened bravely and replied. "Since it would be too late to intrude on Mr. and Mrs. Yado, you may stay the night here. You can have Papa's old room."  
  
"I am grateful."  
  
"And you will behave."  
  
He put a hand to his heart and replied gravely, "Like Sir Lancelot, knight of the Round Table."  
  
It wasn't until she was in bed that Marron recalled that Lancelot was the one who sneaked around with Guinevere behind King Arthur's back. Did Trunks remember that? Was he being absolutely shocking in swearing he'd be like Lancelot with her here in her parents' house that very night and come sneaking in just like...  
  
She looked at her bedroom door. It wasn't locked. She got up, started for it, paused, considered, then pulled off her summer cotton nightgown and climbed back into bed under the Paw Prints quilt.  
  
Somehow it wasn't a great thundering surprise when she awakened in the night and found Trunks crawling into her bed and taking her into his arms. However, she professed much astonishment. "Why, Trunks!" She exclaimed creditably. "You promised!"  
  
"I sure did."  
  
"Like a knight of the Round Table!" She went on.  
  
"Right. And it rather surprises me, Marron, to find a woman of your modesty sleeping stark staring naked."  
  
"It's the summer heat." She explained weakly even though it was a cool July night, and she was warm and snug under the Paw Prints quilt.  
  
He understood. "It is very hot in this bed." And he proved it.  
The next morning, when Marron wakened to the deliciously earnest caresses, she postponed objecting. After all, they were already there! But after breakfast, with her tummy contented and her sleek body well sated, she said to Trunks. "I will not live with you."  
  
He reached over and tugged gently at her ear. "You are living with me."  
  
With the debate going nicely, she went on a bit more stridently. "I will not live with any man."  
  
|How lonely you have been."  
  
It was true, but she was on a roll. "There are customs, manners and morals. What would the world be without any rules?"  
  
Let's get married."  
  
"Trunks, we don't know each other well enough to take such a serious step."  
  
"You gave away three of the peacock feathers. Subconsciously, you are ready to marry. Marry me."  
  
"You need to move out and then call on me so we can become acquainted."  
  
"We know each other very, very well." He rose and came to her, picked her up and sat on her vacated chair with her on his lap. He said, "You stole my virtue, and then you abandon me. Men take that sort of conduct seriously."  
  
It is awkward to insist on parting when one is sitting on someone's lap. The effectiveness of the argument suffers. She sighed in defeat and submitted to his kiss.  
  
After a time he said, "I have some calls to make and some people to see. I'll bring home lunch."  
  
He thought of her house as. home. She said, "If you're a fortune hunter you'd better know that my income isn't large."  
  
He replied, "Don't worry. I'm self-employed."  
  
"Mowing lawns?" She smiled a little.  
  
"Only ours."  
  
He was closing in on her, maneuvering her. If she didn't take firm steps, she would be eased into marriage with him. He moved her off his lap and got up as he gave her bottom a love pat.  
  
She watched him go into the study, as a man would to work, and she was left with the dishes. She gathered them and took them into the kitchen.  
  
How does one evict such a man? Ordinary people called the police, but a lot of good that would do in Peach. Police Chief Roshi was too old. He wouldn't come over until the aerobics shows were over for the day. Mr. Roshi was eighty but he claimed that age for some years, and Mrs. Yamada was sure that he was over a hundred.  
  
If Mr. Roshi did come over from the boarding house, Marron would have to go out and help him up the stairs. She could just see him staggering as he grasped Trunks' arm and tried to wrest him from the house. He wouldn't be able to budge Trunks. He'd die of apoplexy. She couldn't allow that.  
  
She'd have to be unwelcoming to Trunks and firm about his leaving. She'd have to convince him she wanted him out of her house before nightfall. She would be firm. She would convince him.  
  
She marched into the study, but he was on the phone. As she waited, she was distracted from her resolve by his conversation. He said, "There's a field just beyond the school that would take a reasonable amount of copter traffic. No problem." He smiled at Marron and gave her a nice wink before he said, "Fine, I'll be in touch." Then he hung up the phone and patted his thighs, inviting her to come sit on his lap again!  
  
She decided it was best to be as formal as possible so she began, "Mr. Briefs."  
  
"Uh-oh."  
  
"I want you packed and out of this house this morning! Is that clear?"  
  
He smiled at her.  
  
Since that was all she anted to say, she brilliantly resisted trying for an agreement from him, and she turned and left the room. She heard him punching the phone buttons, then talking. And she prowled around, trying to think what to do. She was still officially on her two weeks' holiday. Five others were handling all her errands for her. She took another look at those pictures in the morning room and finally changed into a cotton dress that was suitable to wear on the street and went to Paresu's house.  
  
Paresu was the only person in Marron's age and marital bracket left in Peach. And Paresu left something to be desired. For one thing, being Marron's cousin, she felt no shame about saying exactly what she chose. Mow she said, "My Kami, I wish that look was on my face."  
  
Marron provided the description. "Anger. Determination."  
  
"No. A more sated look I've never seen."  
  
"He went to bed in Papa's room." That was technically true.  
  
In an insufferable voice Paresu guessed, "And you had a big bad old nightmare and ran to 'Papa'!"  
  
"Paresu, don't be vulgar," she commanded.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"It makes you sound common."  
  
"I am."  
  
"You're a Chestnut on your mother's side."  
  
Paresu's haughty "Nonsense!" just underlined the fact that she took after her father.  
  
Marron said stiffly, "I'll be on my way."  
  
"I'll come over later. Maybe Trunks will take off his shirt in the heat of the afternoon."  
  
Marron gave her a quelling glance and left. She went all over town, not staying anywhere very long.  
  
Mrs. Shougeki said, "I just wonder what your grandparents would think of you keeping a man in your house. Is he. still. there? I find your conduct quite in question, Marron, and I've talked to Rev. Empitsu."  
  
Then there were the Shitsumon. "What does he do? Who are his people?" and, "Marron, he's not still in your grandparents' house, sis he?"  
  
Of course, no one in Peach held her parents up as examples, for they had been divorced. So most reached back in time to mention gravely how her conduct would shock her grandparents. Several more mentioned Rev. Marka. It was awful.  
  
After the third house, she had tried avoiding seeing anyone, but she couldn't go home until noon. She kept running into people who had no other errand but to accidentally encounter the Chestnut who was allowing a stranger to live in her house in their town. "An unusual thing to happen in Peach," was one censure. She'd retorted to that in temper, "Maybe that's why there's no one left here." Her words shocked all of them and her too.  
  
Noon finally arrived and Marron went home. Trunks was still there. He was in the kitchen, fixing their lunch. She said coldly, "Are you still here? I told you must pack up your things and leave!"  
  
"Do you like mustard on your fries, or would you prefer catsup?"  
  
"Catsup."  
  
"I have a couple of guys coming to town. Would it be all right if they stayed here?"  
  
"Here?" Then she recalled hearing him talk about the field - which she owned - being convenient to the abandoned school. She blanched and an awful feeling swept over her. Her voice quavered, "Are you trafficking in. drugs?"  
  
Her voice faded with the appalled idea, and she seemed to wait two hundred years until he replied readily. "Good heavens, no. Where did you get a harebrained idea like that?" He frowned at her.  
  
Then he grinned and put a finger to his lips and pointed out the window. Mrs. Uwasa, who lived on the other side of Marron, was quietly snipping on the dividing hedge. Under the window ledge was considerably lower than any other place. She was eavesdropping as usual. If Marron raised her voice, as she was about to, Mrs. Uwasa would be able to hear her quite clearly. That was her purpose in being there: to hear something.  
  
Trunks intoned plainly, "Your country appreciates what you're doing to help us in this matter. It is patriotic people such as yourself who keep this country strong. And we know this hasn't been easy for you. You are an honorable woman."  
  
"Will I get a medal?"  
  
"I doubt it. This is the kind of thing that goes unheralded. That is a grief to us all."  
  
Marron had put her hands to her mouth and flee before she laughed out loud. But she realized, as she was sitting at lunch, that he probably wasn't going to leave. She said, "Won't you please leave?"  
  
"And disappoint our government?"  
  
She said pensively, "I'll expect the FBI here any time to charge you with impersonating a federal agent. And I'll have a terrible time convincing them I wasn't a part of it all."  
  
"I never claimed to be a government agent. I just said our government would be proud of you. Anyone would be proud of you."  
  
Somehow the subject of his leaving was lost in the speculation on how to trap Mrs. Uwasa into admitting she was a snoop. When Marron once again attempted to broach on the subject of his leaving, he got up, carried his dishes to the sink and said, "I've got to get downtown to meet with Shichou Machi."  
  
"With Shichou?"  
  
"She's the mayor."  
  
"I know. But why Shichou?"  
  
"City planning." Trunks rushed. "I'll tell you about it later." He leaned to give her a quick kiss before he went on out the door.  
  
Why would Trunks Briefs be meeting with Shichou? She remembered Paresu saying Trunks had convinced her to stick around because there were going to be changes in Peach. She sat, frowned at the wall and tried to figure out how many changes could be made to help Peach.  
  
So dinnertime came and Trunks came home just like a husband. "Are they here yet?" He asked as he kissed her with husbandly abstraction.  
  
"There was a call. A male voice, I suppose. The reason I say 'I suppose' is it could have been Mrs. Denwa. On the phone you can't be sure when she calls if it might not be a man."  
  
"Was it Mrs. Denwa?"  
  
"I asked if it was Mrs. Denwa, and he didn't say anything for a while, then he said to tell you 'tomorrow'."  
  
"That will probably be better."  
  
"Trunks, are you going to start some business here in Peach?"  
  
"How did you figure that out?" He was pleased with her.  
  
"I matched up odds and ends and that's all I can think it can be. Are you?"  
  
"I'm investigating the possibilities. Nothing is sure yet." "When will you know?"  
  
"In a couple of days."  
  
"You plan to stay here?"  
  
"Please."  
  
"Seriously, Trunks, I want you to move out."  
  
He chided her. "How can you want to turn me away? You deliberately ensnared me. You used me. All you wanted was an illicit interlude. You never intended to see me again. How would you feel if I'd done that to you?"  
  
"I'm not this kind of woman," she said rather pitiably, trying to give him a case of full-blown guilt.  
  
"That's a façade." He was stern. "Because, Marron, we know the real you. The chance-taker, the impulsive darer who challenges life." He went to her, took her into his arms and tried to kiss her, but she resisted.  
  
"What are you doing?" She exclaimed.  
  
"I'm not doing anything!" He replied. "I'm showing you what you did to me."  
  
"What?" She was distracted. Then as he kissed her while she pushed against him almost enough to indicate that he should release her but not quite enough to show real intent, she said. "I did not ever do that to you!"  
  
"Well, maybe not exactly that way, because you're shorter than I am. I'm really trying to show you how very personal you were."  
  
"How can you say such a thing? I never laid a hand on you!"  
  
"You did worse than that, Marron. You laid your eyes on me. Your smile. You lured me to you."  
  
"I. I."  
  
"You do have a terrible time with that faulty starter. We need to change your oil," he said as he carried her off up the stairs.  
She awakened the next morning and lay content looking at Trunks, who was decidedly at home there in her bed. He sprawled over most of it, as if it was his bed and she was the visitor.  
  
She wondered how she was ever going to summon enough backbone to get him out of her house.  
  
He was trying to do something about Peach's economy. Something big that would entail bringing in helicopter occasionally. If he was trying to do that, she ought to help. And if giving him a place to live in the meantime would help, then as a true citizen of Peach she should do her part.  
  
He was an interesting man, but perhaps he was a business muttonhead. He would need cash. How much could she spare for him? If his venture was successful, great. If it failed, she wouldn't be shocked.  
  
She would have to go down to the bank this morning and discuss this with Mr. Ginkou. No, no discussion. That would take weeks! She would simply tell him what she wanted. He knew her responsibilities and income, and then she would decide. He would be horrified. She was his biggest depositor.  
  
That settled, she lay studying Trunks. He was so peaceful, a little exhausted perhaps. Her eye became soft and her lashes drooped somewhat smugly. She'd wakened him in the night and he had been so. touched. She tried to think of another word, one that didn't have a physical connotation. Charmed? Yes. Amused? Yes. Pleased? That too, but his heart had been touched. She smiled at her sleeping, unwelcome guest.  
  
With his eyes still closed and speaking with barely moving lips, he said, "Get up and go down to breakfast, Marron, so it will be safe for me to move and you won't use it as an excuse to pounce on me."  
  
She laughed and pounced and they tussled. She squealed and he hissed a warning. "Mrs. Uwasa!" And she tried to muffle her giggles. haplessly.  
  
She wiggled off the bed and, naked, she ran through the house and down the stairs while growled like a blue-eyed lion. He cornered her and put her down right there on the floor! "I have a splinter!" She frowned at him and rubbed her bottom.  
  
"Let me see."  
  
"No!" She protested, then wriggled free and fled. He was a little slower this time but craftier. He caught her and turned her over his knee, "found" the splinter and pulled it out. But before she could turn over, he'd flicked it away, not realizing - he claimed - that she would want to see it.  
  
He then coaxed her into showering with him, to wash his back. She did, for he assured her she would be safe, but he told her later one never counts seriously on the ramifications used in persuasion.  
  
"You didn't persuade me." She was a stickler.  
  
"I was the victim. It was you who persuaded me."  
  
They argued that in whispers all through breakfast, since Mrs. Uwasa was again trimming the hedge.  
  
What one thing and another they were a little late getting started that day. And Marron was still in her dressing gown when Mrs. Henko Taido came by to call. Hearing Marron in the kitchen, Henko opened the screen door and came on in, as people seemed to feel free to do in Peach.  
  
Henko was almost sixty years old. Her family was all raised and had fled Peach to several separated points across the country, leaving her with nothing on which to concentrate. At the very last minute Marron remembered to steer her away from the morning room and its display of the fair pictures, and into the front parlor.  
  
Henko was the "Christian contingency" of Peach, the representative to their diverse assemblage in the shared church meetings on Sunday. She was unreliable in her opinions in that she could never be outguessed. And she was a stickler for manners. One of her daughters had been Marron's best friend before she'd moved away.  
  
"How is everyone in your family?" Marron babbled, folding her gown closer around her body and tying it more firmly into place.  
  
"Excellent. I also hear your step mama is expecting again."  
  
"Yes, they're quite pleased." Marron was very aware of her own high color and tried to think coolly in order to calm her blush.  
  
At that moment Trunks came down the stairs, and before Marron could do anymore than rise, hold out one delaying hand and put the other to her throat, he walked into the parlor. Henko gasped, for he was barefooted and clad only in a pair of shorts that were riding low on his magnificent body.  
  
Realizing that the lady must now plainly know all, Marron said, "How shocking!"  
  
"Hah!" Said Henko. "How marvelous! I came to scold, bit I believe I understand completely." She turned to Trunks and held out her hand. "I'm Henko Taido. How nice to meet you. I'm so glad Marron found you. She's always been so tiresomely pure."  
After Henko strode away, Marron said weakly, "One can never know how she might react. She was capable of calling in the state police. She would call them, of course, instead of Mr. Roshi, for he'd only come during the time there weren't any aerobics shows and I'd have to help him up the front steps."  
  
"Paresu brought Mr. Roshi along late that first day."  
  
"Oh, yes." Marron recalled Paresu mentioning it.  
  
"Henko said she had a lot of political connections. Interesting. My mother moves in those circles too. I believe we can use Henko. She might be just exactly what we need."  
  
"For what?" Marron asked, rather off balance.  
  
"To coordinate the offices."  
  
"Yes, she's certainly the organizer. But we'll have to find someone else to help her or she'll tap me. I already have more than enough to do."  
  
Trunks listened as she explained her ordinary schedule of errands. So it was better than midmorning before Marron managed to dress. She gathered the fair pictures and stacked them in a corner of her room. Then she went to the bank to arrange to give Trunks some financial backing for his project.  
  
She came back home at noon and walked into her house to hear male voices in the study. She went to the open door and Trunks smiled his welcome as he stood and reached out to her. "Honey, come meet our guests."  
  
"Our guests" sounded so committed. She walked forward with some hesitation and examined the two men. One was about Trunks' age and the other was a bit older. Trunks put his arm around her and said, "This is Son Goten."  
  
He paused as she said, "How do you do?" to the younger man with the smiling face.  
  
"And this is Son Gohan." He was a deceptively somber-looking, black haired man. Gohan smiled as he said, "Actually, I'm Mrs. Denwa."  
  
Marron laughed and held her hand to him. "Perhaps you will meet Mrs. Denwa and then you can hear what a deep voice you have."  
  
Trunks told Marron. "Our project looks good. We think it'll work."  
  
Marron hesitated, indicated Gohan and Goten, then asked. "They're involved?"  
  
Trunks replied. "Fully."  
  
"Well." Marron took the plunge. "I should like to help. This is for the project. No strings. Good luck." She handed him her check for 100,000 zenni.  
  
Trunks looked at it so land and so blankly that she said, "It's good."  
  
Trunks gave it to Goten, who reacted similarly, and then Goten passed the check to Gohan. Trunks said, "My kami, Marron, you overwhelm me." She had no idea who he was or the extent of his resources.  
  
Gohan asked blankly, "Doesn't she know?"  
  
Trunks smiled like a Cheshire cat, as he replied softly, "No."  
  
Marron listened and frowned just a little. "This is legit?"  
  
"Ah," said Gohan. "You've found a jewel."  
  
To give full credit, Trunks replied. "It was the jewel."  
  
+++  
  
I noticed that Trunks keeps on appearing with his shirt off in this fic. You must forgive me. I have this weakness for guys with great abs. Who doesn't?  
  
Anyway, here are more "names." kagi - keys kuruma - car taimatsu - torch yado- inn shougeki - shock shitsumon - question uwasa - gossip shichou - mayor machi - city denwa - phone ginkou - bank empitsu- pencil  
  
Due to your demands, I'll keep the same length. But there are only two more chapters left. I have to decide which fic I'll write next. I just had the most wonderful idea this morning ( ! OK, so I'm going back to the beach and swim - I mean think. Thanks for bearing with me. Yoroshiku! 


	9. Questions

Fair 9  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  
+++  
  
Trunks phoned Paresu to come to supper. She met Goten, the younger of the brothers, soon after she arrived. She met Gohan too, but didn't notice him. A strange metamorphosis took place in Marron's cousin. She became quiet. She appeared somewhat aloof. Marron frowned at Paresu. She'd never seen Paresu so conscious of herself. Paresu so vividly self-aware that she stiffened almost into immobility. Her breath was so irregular that she had to sigh now and then to try to start fresh in a breathing rhythm; therefore she appeared to be bored.  
  
For his part, Goten just stared at Paresu. He sat back in his chair at the dinner table and moved his fork idly by his plate. When trunks addressed any comment to Goten he would start, look at Trunks and lift his brows inquiringly.  
  
Since Trunks and Marron were a little off the world too, only Gohan was steady enough to observe everyone's behavior and chuckle over it. But nobody was there with whom to share the laugh.  
  
The dinner conversation was not memorable. In spite of several "May I's," Gohan never did get a roll or the butter. He organized clearing the table by putting dishes into hands and directing exactly where they should be taken. There was a traffic snarl when Goten and Paresu met in the doorway and stopped to stare at each other, mesmerized.  
  
Gohan was sorely tempted to abandon them and go call his wife, Videl, to tell her about it. She would laugh very softly, for that's how it had been with them. He was glad he and Goten weren't staying in Peach this time. He would be home tonight, home with a Terrible Two, a teething baby. and Videl.  
  
When it came to leave, Goten came out of his trance and said, in a dreadful attempt at offhandedness, "Ano. maybe we ought to stay over."  
  
Very firmly Gohan said, "Not this time." He wanted to go home, and he simply didn't allow any debate. He hustled around efficiently, gathering papers, tidying, checking to be sure he had what facts he needed for the weekend.  
  
"You're. leaving?" Paresu roused. "You're going to drive. this late?" It was seven and would be light for another couple of hours.  
  
Her appalled shock gladdened Goten's heart. He smiled and straightened. "We've a copter. We're staying in Apple, and of course, we have an office there." Then he said, "May I see you safely home?" As if there were dangerous dragons lurking in Peach's alleyways.  
  
Gohan began to protest, "We need to get on." But Goten and Marron were going out the door. Gohan turned to share his amusement with Trunks. However, Trunks was standing with his hands crossed over his chest watching, in elaborate disgust, as Marron sassily anchored two peacock feathers in the top of her hair, knotted high on the back of her head. Then she looked at Trunks quite smugly, and Trunks moved slowly, threateningly toward her, blowing on his magic ring. She laughed that throaty laugh of a woman who knows she's attractive to a man. Gohan put back his head and called, "Videl!" and was unheard by her or anyone around him.  
  
When Gohan started to pace in earnest, Goten came back up on the porch. with Paresu. Steve opened the screen door and helped Paresu over the flat threshold and said with pleased astonishment, "She's never personally seen a chopper take off!"  
  
Gohan commented a solemn, "Chikyu to anyone," which went by everyone else.  
  
Goten said casually, "We have her car, so we'll meet you out there."  
  
Gohan held up a traffic cop hand. "Hold it! We all go together."  
  
"Oh, we're not going." Trunks said reasonably and with a perfectly straight face. "We feel that this launch is top secret, and we shouldn't draw attention to it by going out and standing around waving you off."  
  
Gohan was even firmer. "Goten, it's getting late. We'll go out together. We'll take Trunks station wagon, leave it there, and he can pick it up tomorrow."  
  
"I'll drive you!" Paresu said with a blinding smile of inspiration.  
  
Gohan decided firmly, "I'll drive." Then he turned and surveyed Trunks, who had his arm draped over Marron as his hand petted the peacock feathers.  
  
Gohan then turned to Goten, who, with an idiotic grin was looking at Paresu. Then Gohan announced to the ceiling, "Two of them!" before he instructed, "I'll fly too."  
Trunks and Marron went out on the porch to wave the trio off, and then went over to sit on the porch swing. "Tell me about this Sharpener," Trunks commanded.  
  
"He's a forty-one year old lawyer who live in Papaya. I met him during a lease signing for one- part of a farm. His client wanted to square off his tilling and planting tidily. He's been to California and will be back in Peach next week."  
  
"Do you love him? Did you?"  
  
"He was 'suitable'."  
  
"Am I?"  
  
"Suitable?" She laughed. "I found you on a highway and became acquainted with you at a county fair. I have no idea about you at all." She looked up to laugh at him at the preposterous happenings in her life, but he was serious.  
  
"Tell me what you know about me." He took her hand and put his other arm along the back of the swing around her. "What have you learned about me?"  
  
"You drove a Muscle Machine."  
  
"That was the only car available. Car rentals have a lot of them. Meek, family men who own a station wagon drive them and get to live a little. I find them a little confining. Cops watch them especially. They look as if they're going fifty standing still."  
  
"You're strong. You can easily carry me up a flight of stairs. You can ring a bell at a carnival midway, and when the word spreads that 'Trunks is here,' terror strikes into the gambler's heart."  
  
"What else?"  
  
"You have a great sense of humor. You can laugh at yourself. You're big enough to allow someone else to win, and you will compete in a contest with a bully in a game you know nothing about. You were magnificent."  
  
"Nothing more?" He wasn't teasing.  
  
She grinned. "You're a god who looks a little like a battered lion."  
  
With some impatience he questioned, "Haven't you discovered that I care for you? That I want to please you and be with you?"  
  
She laughed a delighted trill. "I did notice that."  
  
"Marron, I'm not talking about making love." His voice was low and earnest. "Haven't you discovered that I love you?"  
  
"How could you? We've known each other a week. Only a week! How could you know you love me?"  
  
"I don't know. It hit me like it's hit Goten, but I handled it a whole lot better. I didn't keel over and act like a substandard wolf. I was perfectly normal. But under it all I was exactly like Goten is now with Paresu except I could carry on a conversation. I moved and functioned quite well."  
  
"I didn't notice."  
  
"How could you not notice when it cost me so such control? I was doing it all for you so you wouldn't think I was a fool."  
  
"I thought you were the most magnificent and exciting man I'd ever seen."  
  
"See?" He was triumphant."  
  
"That's attraction."  
  
"That's a beginning. What will it take for you to be convinced?"  
  
"I don't know." She shook her head sadly.  
  
"I do. You can fly blind, in this case. I know it's right with us. I know it! You can trust me in this and give up to me. Marry me, Marron. I'll do my best for you. For all your quests you set for me. I would give you my life."  
  
"Oh, Trunks, you're just so sweet, but it scares me. This is so strange to me! I've never experienced anything like this or behaved in this way. I don't understand what's happening to me. You're so practiced. This isn't a strange territory for you. I'm lost. I'm a little panicked. How can I know what I feel? I need guideposts and signs. She was a little teary and gulped. "A map?"  
  
"I love you."  
  
"I've never been this way with any man." It was the best she could do.  
  
He held her gently. We'll come about. Don't worry. Everything will be exactly right. No rush. For now, just let me love you."  
  
She fingered his shirt button and sighed. "I would feel better if you moved out. I am. embarrassed."  
  
"No. Possession is nine points of the law. I don't want you to forget me."  
  
Her laugh was a bit watery. "Oh, Trunks, you idiot. If I never saw you again, I would remember you for the rest of my life."  
  
In his rough voice he urged, "Doesn't that tell you anything?"  
  
"But I have nothing to compare you with. I have no reference points. You are a god come into my life. How can I, a mortal woman, know if you haven't simply bedazzled me because you are so different? How can I know you're willing to marry a mortal, and not become disinterested with one and leave me wrecked when you go find a goddess?"  
  
"Don't you realize you are one?"  
  
"Oh, Trunks. Is that your heart? Or is that your skilled tongue?"  
  
As he said before, he again said. "This may take a while. I've the patience."  
  
"If I were more sophisticated."  
  
"If you were married, toothless, with seventeen brats by some cull, it would be the same between us."  
  
And she laughed, more touched by those words than by his calling her a goddess.  
They hadn't heard the helicopter lift off, though it was audible all over town. The first they knew Goten and Gohan had left was when Paresu drove into the driveway and missed the rose bushes with some latent skill.  
  
With studied casualness, Paresu came up on the porch, helped Trunks pull a great wooden rocker over in front of the swing and proceeded to cross- examine Trunks about Steve from his birth to his fillings.  
  
Paresu was appalled to learn that Goten had rashly married another woman five years before, but she understood when they were divorced a year and a half alter. It was well they realized their mistake. She was intrigued that he was an engineer, that he had tried to be and astronaut and that he was a cook. She mused, " So complex."  
  
Marron was indulgently amused, as she sat there. Her small hand was hidden under Trunks' large one; not really listening to his and Paresu's talk lulled by the motion of the swing controlled by trunks' foot.  
  
Paresu finally ran out of sensible questions but, not wanting to give up talking about Goten, started asking inane, sporadic ones. But she finally, slowly rose and said tentatively that she must go. Trunks had stood up too. He took her arm and led her down the steps to her car. One repeated question surfaced again, "And they'll be back on Monday?"  
  
Patiently Trunks replied, "Yes."  
  
She reluctantly left, and Trunks came back up the steps to stand before Marron. "It's time for bed, Marron."  
  
"Trunks." She took the hand he held to her and stood up. She laid her hand to his chest and looked earnestly into his face. "You must not sleep with me tonight."  
  
"Honey, I don't mind. If you don't want to make love this time of your month it's okay. I'll just hold you."  
  
"It isn't that." She allowed him to hold her to him. "It's that I feel we. shouldn't."  
  
"Ah?"  
  
"It confuses me. I can't think straight. It influences me."  
  
"Me too."  
  
"Then you do understand?"  
  
"No, I didn't mean to give that impression. I'm just willing to give you time. But not much, Marron."  
  
She slid her hand from his chest and wrapped hr arms around his body to hug him. "Oh, Trunks." She sighed shakily. "Life was so uncomplicated not too long ago." She had almost said before she'd met him, but that wasn't true. She'd been having problems before she met Trunks Briefs. She had been uncertain, restless and discontented. Now she was still uncertain. More so. He'd only made it all more complex.  
  
They went separately into their rooms to lie awake, thinking. She heard him get up and go to the bathroom to fill a glass with water, and she heard him pause outside her door. She clenched her fists and was silent. She heard him later as he went down the stairs to the study, but she didn't get out of bed to follow him. She forced herself to lie there and be silent and still.  
  
Could she trust Trunks? She wondered. He was so worldly. He had taken her by storm at a vulnerable time. She knew he was special, but could she be certain that this madness she felt for him was love? How could she be sure she wasn't self- deluded? She felt such strong emotion for him, but was it simply physical? That she wanted him was thrillingly sure. That she wanted to be with him was adamantly positive. But how much experience did she have with such decisions? Was it simply so unique that she was mesmerized?  
  
What if she lost him? How could she ever go back to being the Marron Chestnut she'd been before he came to her life? She felt so bleak and empty that she was alarmed. How could a man take hold of a woman's life so fast? She loved him. How could if possibly have become love in so short a time? Was it only obsession?  
  
Whatever it was, however long it would last, she wanted as much of him as she could have. She couldn't waste any time. She rose from her bed and in her sleeveless cotton nightgown walked slowly, deliberately across her room to her door. Then she went down the stairs to the door of the study, to pause there.  
  
She'd moved so silently that Trunks hadn't heard her approach. He was so deep in his thoughts that when he sensed her, then looked up and saw her, he momentarily thought he'd conjured her image. She blushed. No image blushed, he realized, rising from the chair. He moved to her, in thrall. She had come to him! He took her hungrily, possessively into his arms and crushed her to his body. She gave up herself. Her surrender was complete as he lifter her in his arms.  
  
But he didn't carry her into the hall. He took her with him to his chair there in the study and sat with her on his lap. He held her. His deep rough pirate voice whispered endearments in her ear. "My love, my own, my goddess."  
  
She clung to him and wept. Her tears ran down her cheeks until she clamed. Then he rocked her gently in the swivel chair, murmuring soothing words, as he petted her swirl of golden hair from her moon-pale face. Her lashes spiked with her tears and her breath trembled with them. Eventually he could ask her. "What is it, my love? Why do you cry?"  
  
"I can't give you up."  
  
"Ah, progress." He had no handkerchief, although heroes never lacked them. But he found a clean, envelope-size ink blotter in the desk and blotted her face with it, causing her a wan smile.  
  
"I'm not sure." She lifted her clotted eyelashes to look up into his face and added with a pulled-down mouth. "I'm so tiresomely unsure."  
  
"Your instincts are doing great."  
  
He settled her into his lap, in his arms, and told here a long, tedious story about a cruise he was on at age eighteen. So he had been a sailor. She smiled, her neck muscles jerked with the residue of her weeping and she settled into her harbor and fell sound asleep.  
  
He held her for a long time after she slept. Did she love him. enough? And his face was harsh and his mouth was almost snarled over the thought of ever losing her. All his plans had come to right. He wondered how big a threat Sharpener was and if he could actually do him bodily harm if it came to that.  
  
At last he lifted her out across his arms, stood and found one of his legs was half asleep. He hobbled painfully across the room with part of his mind amused by his predicament. He had to walk around downstairs before he trusted his leg to be safe in carrying her up the steps to her room. where he laid her on her bed to sleep in solitary isolation.  
The next day she was a little shy again with Trunks, but he acted perfectly natural. They cleaned, grocery-shopped, and he organized the stuffy and worked on papers. It was late Saturday afternoon when the phone rang. Trunks picked it up automatically, but it was man who asked for Marron. Trunks soberly handed her the phone and his mind snarled. Was it Sharpener?  
  
She was equally curious and said, "Hello?" And without and self- consciousness at all, Trunks listened to her half of the conversation. "Oh, yes, Rev. Empitsu. That's very kind of you. Yes, thank you for calling. Yes. Goodbye." Slowly she laid the phone in its cradle before she looked up into Trunks' avid stare. "It was Rev. Empitsu."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"He just called to see if I needed to see him and to be sure I'd be in church tomorrow."  
  
"I see."  
  
"Some of the people here in Peach told me they'd told Rev. Empitsu. about you. living here with me. I suppose he thought he ought to see me."  
  
"Is he coming over here?"  
  
"He doesn't live in Peach. With the towns dying, there aren't enough people to support even one local minister. He comes three Sundays out of four. No one ever agrees with him. Poor man. This new one is from Pineapple City. He had to learn to drive a car because, you know, the transit system is so good in Pineapple City, and parking cars is impossible, that no one drives. He ran into the fireplug the first Sunday he was here. It didn't work anyway - the fireplug."  
  
"He must find central Mango somewhat different from Pineapple City." Trunks sat down and patted his knees for her to sit on his lap. But she sat rather primly in another chair.  
  
She agreed. "Actually, he said it was something of a culture shock." She waited for Trunks' surprised laugh. "And he is an only child. That's been no help at all for he wasn't prepared for the squabbling among us. None of us agrees, and no one hesitates to contradict or criticize."  
  
"How's he holding up?" Trunks was by then amused.  
  
"He is fascinated. He wants to write a book about us, but word leaked out and a committee visited him to forbid it. He promised no one would recognize anyone. But they couldn't allow it. They said it was all very well to squabble at home, but no one broadcasts it around - outside the family, so to speak."  
  
"Wouldn't that be interesting reading? An outsider's point of view."  
  
"Well, no," Marron disagreed. "You see, since he's a preacher, he would probably use us as a horrible example of Christianity, and we all think of ourselves as shining examples of pure thought and." She faltered to a standstill, looked down and blushed.  
  
"A little guilt creep in there?"  
  
"I believe that's my whole problem in a nutshell, Trunks. I don't feel any guilt about you at all!"  
  
It was as if the sunshine was truly in him as he whispered, "Oh, my love."  
  
"Now don't go getting mushy. We're doing very well right now."  
  
"I thought you didn't feel any guilt."  
  
"Not about anything we've done, but I can't just go on so loose and wanton."  
  
"Do you feel wanton?" He frowned a little, earnestly watching her.  
  
"No." She smiled at him. "Only guilty about the way you make me feel when I look at you."  
  
He sat up straight and took a deep breath. Then he stood up, gasping air as he walked around, shaking his head and rubbing his stomach. He came over to her and leaned over to show her the top of his head as he asked, "Is it still there? It feels as if you just blew it off."  
  
She ruffled his lilac hair and laughed. "You silly."  
  
Then he squatted in front of her chair and put his hands on her knees to steady himself. "So I make you feel wanton, do I?"  
  
"I don't think it's a very good idea to talk about it, Trunks. I'll get all upset and agitated."  
  
"Of course, I would remain calm and placid."  
  
"It's nice you have such control!" She retorted, and she stared as burst out laughing and shaking his head. "You don't? I've been very impressed. You put me to bed and left me there alone. That was sweet of you, Trunks, when I'm so perplexed and confused. You are considerate."  
  
"Don't worry, my love. It will all work out." He leaned up and kissed her cheek. "Let's go out and walk."  
  
The July day was hot, and the evening barely less so. They wore cotton pullovers, jeans to protect their legs, and running shoes. They got into his station wagon and she directed him into the country along a dirt track to a part of one of her farms that lay fallow. They stopped at a wide wooden gate. She got out to open it until he drove though and then closed it behind the car. They drove on down the tractor track, got out and walked.  
  
There was a cow or two that watched their progress with wide-eyed curiosity. A dog joined them for a time, but they simply walked. She didn't mention the land was hers. He said, "You know your way without keeping track of landmarks."  
  
"I grew up here."  
  
"Then moved into Peach to live the life of a city girl?" He teased.  
  
"I've been to Europe five times."  
  
"Excellent."  
  
" 'Small town' doesn't mean isolated. Not in this day and time. Probably television has had the most to do with expanding people's knowledge. Television is a remarkable tool. You don't have to be able to read to learn what other peoples are like. Or what the world is like."  
  
"I love you, Marron."  
  
"Because I like TV?" She laughed up at him and swung his hand a little.  
  
"Because I can't believe I've found you."  
  
"No, it was I. I deliberately picked you up, you know. I had worried a little about walking past you, then I saw you crawling out of that wicked car, and your movement did something strange inside me. I stood there and I couldn't move. I was trying to think of how to approach you, you know, in a flirting way, and you said, 'Well, hello.' How did you think to say that perfectly ordinary thing to me? You didn't scare me. You didn't make me feel threatened. You were so easy. Just 'hello'."  
  
"I was glad to see you. You were a miracle. I probably would have throttled that cameraman for scaring you off, but after I saw the pictures I forgave him. I knew I'd find you again. Bu I regret that night was cut short."  
That Saturday night was a long one for Marron. She dreaded to go top church the next day. She wondered if she'd be tarred and feathered. But she examined her conscience and she felt no great terrible wrong within herself. She wasn't a loose or promiscuous woman. She would face censure brave.  
  
However, when she came down to breakfast - dressed quite carefully in a dark gray, short-sleeved cotton suit and heels - she asked Trunks offhandedly if he would like to come to church.  
  
"Not this time," he said a little absently. "I've a pile of figures to go through, and I can get it done without you here in the house distracting me." He smiled at her. "You look gorgeous."  
  
She also looked a little pale. He went with her to the door. Their town had the early service that morning. She seemed reluctant to leave him, and he was touched by that until she smiled and straightened and said, "I'll probably come back with a stack of scarlet A's to sew on all my clothes." And she gave him a quick, false laugh.  
  
Rigid with sudden understanding, he stood frozen as she went down the steps and began to walk down the street.  
No one was actually rude to her. Everyone did speak. People in small towns can't afford not to speak when they're mad, because, there wouldn't be anyone left to talk to. Their reception of Marron was very cool and formal. Except for Henko Taido, but then she wasn't reliable and would do and say almost anything.  
  
"Come sit with us," Henko invited. "You know we always sit at the back row and pretend we aren't actually at a service, but we'll make room."  
  
"Thank you, but I'll sit where I regularly do."  
  
So she sat alone. The pews were family conscription pews. She'd always sat alone. But now no one turned and whispered to her. No one stopped to chat, although everyone did give her at least a cool nod. She waited.  
  
The organ pumped up with a single note, then crashed into the opening hymn as the Re. Mr. Empitsu came into church. They all stood and sang before they bowed their heads in opening prayer. Then they sat down in a rustling and with an occasional elbow or knee bumping hollowly against the wooden pews. Suddenly, there was an electric silence and an almost chorused indrawn breath.  
  
Marron looked at the Rev. Mr. Empitsu, but he was simply arranging his notes on the lectern, then he glance up, smiled a warm welcome down the aisle, and continued his brief delay. as Trunks, neatly shaved and dressed in suit and tie, came to Marron's pew and smiled down at her.  
  
+++  
  
I've nothing against Christian services. Please don't hate me. It's just that I think that it makes the small, conservative town atmosphere more believable since they are bound to disapprove of such a union between our favorite couple. Ne?  
  
Coming soon! The new fic is gonna be called Helpless. Physically-challenged Trunks is determined to get his life back to normal at all costs. But the hired temp ruins his plans for good. 


	10. Quest Fulfilled

Fair 10  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  
+++  
  
The rush of emotion through Marron almost melted her. He had come to share this ordeal, to give her his strength and sureness. She was not alone.  
  
She moved over and he calmly sat beside her, taking her hand in his as he gave his attention to Rev. Mr. Empitsu.  
  
It took awhile for Marron to organize her thoughts and emotions enough to make sense out of the preacher's words. But her awareness was caught by how still that diverse congregation sat. There were no rustlings, no coughs, no whispers - just dead silence.  
  
Their sermon was on being one's brother's keeper; the responsibility and the privileges, and the direction such responsibility should take. It was constructive help. The preacher's voice was pleasant. He spoke as an adult to adults. He said what he had to say in fourteen of the allotted twenty minutes, and when he was finished, he stopped.  
  
When the service was over, he said, "We are just a little early. Let's try to use this time for fellowship." Then he blessed them all.  
  
He went to stand in the door to greet them all, and spoke to each one of them as he shook hands. Had he wanted to, he couldn't have made the rest leave, not until they heard what he said to Marron and her lover. The congregation edged around, trying not to be crowded out of earshot. They made idle conversation with the people they saw almost everyday, and to some everyday was far too often.  
  
"Good morning, Marron." Rev. Empitsu smiled and took her hand. "And?" He waited to be introduced to Trunks. Then he shook Trunks' hand and said, "I am curious-" And ears strained. "About a project you may be implementing here in Peach. How may I help?"  
  
"When do you have time?"  
  
"Next week?" They nodded to one another in agreement. Then Rev. Empitsu said to Marron, " Wonder if you could help me. I have an aunt who is writing a piece about small towns and she needs a place to stay in Peach. Could you help her be settled here?"  
  
Marron smiled, understanding exactly what he was doing for her. She said, "Would she mind staying at our house?"  
  
He took her hand. "She would be delighted. My thanks."  
  
Trunks touched the reverend's shoulder. "Dinner next Sunday? You would have the opportunity to see how your aunt is coming along."  
  
"Excellent." Then he looked beyond Trunks and said his usual greeting to her. "Well, Henko, how did I do today?" He smiled as he anticipated what on earth Henko Taido would reply.  
  
As they left, the ordinary comments given them were as if there had been no censure. It was an amazing thing. One man had done it. No, two men. While Rev. Empitsu had helped her, it was Trunks who had come to her. Marron was bordering on tears all the way back to their house.  
  
So was Trunks. His sudden realization of what she thought she might face, alone, had made him frantically scramble to find a clean shirt. He'd had to sit in church biting the inside of his lip to control his own hostile, protective emotion. Then to hear such a sermon. But the crowning incident had been when Marron welcomed Rev. Empitsu's aunt to "our" house. Whether she knew it or not, she had told her pastor that she and Trunks were an accepted unit. Did she realize she'd said that?  
  
He took her hand as they walked down the street. "You said 'our' house."  
  
"Did I?" She was still recovering from all that had occurred that morning. "Well, you've been at the house longer that I have this week, and you've certainly made yourself at home! I've found it impossible to evict you."  
  
He squeezed her hand. "Do you still want to?"  
  
"I suppose one can become used to anything." She grinned, for she was recovering. "I've grown accustomed to your face."  
  
He guessed. "You thought you were going to be burned at the stake."  
  
"I was terrified."  
  
"You didn't give me a clue until that porch 'curtain line.' You're supposed to tell me when you're worried or scared or need some help. I can't guess right all the time."  
  
"You came."  
  
"I'd have been there all along if I'd had any idea. Don't ever again leave me in the dark. Tell me."  
  
"I didn't believe I had the right."  
  
"Ah, Marron, I wish to Kami I knew how to convince you. Know I'm trying."  
  
"Me too."  
Rev. Empitsu's aunt called not long after that and asked when it would be convenient for her to arrive. Marron said, "Any time. Whenever it's convenient."  
  
So Erasa Empitsu came just after three that afternoon. She was a surprise. A preacher's aunt sounds like someone small, old and prim. The woman who came was tall, younger than forty, and she moved with a great flair. Marron took one look at her and decided that the preacher hadn't meant his aunt as a chaperone but as competition! Marron bristled for all of four minutes.  
  
Erasa wouldn't allow anyone to help her with her soft carryall or shoulder bag. She said, "Just point me to my room." She did allow Marron to lead the way to the last bedroom. Erase stood and looked around. "Looks like my own room. A woman who wasn't interested in possessions."  
  
Marron looked around her mother's room in some surprise. "Yes," but she'd only then realized it.  
  
"How nice of you to have me. This is a fascinating survey I'm working on. I do hope I'm not in the way."  
  
"Did you fly in today?"  
  
"Oh, no. I was visiting my nephew this week to inspect his new congregation."  
  
"You are kind to come. Your nephew was the soul of kindness. This situation could have caused all sorts of complications, but he defused it nicely, and I appreciate your part in it. Are you actually doing a survey?"  
  
"Actually." Erasa grinned. "Of course I hadn't planned to go this far south, but it will be an interesting contrast to the original premise."  
  
She was easy to be with. She teased them. "You have to know you're not supposed to live in sin. And to try it here? Utter madness." She shook her head. "It's about the dumbest thing a woman can do in this place. She loses, no matter what."  
  
Trunks complained with finely drawn indignation. "I am trying to rectify all this, but she's very stubborn. I am the wronged one. This Lorelei! No, wrong book. This Jezebel."  
  
She? Marron Chestnut, a Jezebel? How amazing!  
  
Trunks was going on. "She led me astray."  
  
Marron gave him a very patient look. He was sitting there sprawled like a pirate, contriving to look innocent! She intoned primly, "I don't think one week is long enough to know a man before marrying him!"  
  
Erasa exclaimed, "A week?" And she laughed. I thought, when my nephew called, that I was in for a dull time. You must admit central Mango is not like Pineapple City."  
  
Marron could see how Erasa would think that. "It's like Trunks and Sharpener. Quite, quite different." She rested her eyes on Trunks.  
  
Erasa inquired, "Sharpener?"  
  
"Sharpener Staedler?"  
  
"Oh?" Erasa raised her eyebrows in interest. "Connected to the artists?"  
  
"No." Marron smiled at the thought. "His mother was Marka Staedler. Although if the Staedlers could see Sharpener draw, they would claim him."  
  
"He's that good?"  
  
"He's a lawyer," Trunks explained. "Somehow he'd slipped my mind. I wonder if my subconscious deliberately deleted him. When does he get back?"  
  
"Sometime this week."  
  
Erasa guessed. "Sharpener is the local you're usurping? This does get complicated."  
  
Trunks said. "He's out of it."  
  
Marron replied, "There's never been any commitment."  
  
Erasa's eyes sparkled. "But he'll be surprised."  
  
Marron discounted that. "He's never surprised."  
  
But he was. When he arrived, he was certainly surprised.  
Early Monday the helicopter blades whipped overhead and Trunks jumped from the breakfast table saying, "Great, they're early!" He went out of the house into his car, and left, leaving Marron to explain to Erasa who was coming and why.  
  
This time Videl was with Gohan. He was so proud of her as he introduced her around. "She can stay here with me?"  
  
"Of course. Trunks can take the morning room with Goten."  
  
"Goten? Trunks questioned. "Don't do this to me!"  
  
". And you and Sharon can have that room upstairs."  
  
Gohan agreed. "Fine."  
  
"Oh, no," Videl protested instantly. "We'll go to a hotel."  
  
"It's been closed for." Marron tried to remember. "Oh, for a long time. This is no trouble. How long can you two stay?"  
  
"Two days. My mother and dad are staying alone with the kids and they say that's as long as their sanity will survive."  
  
Erasa asked, "Shall I take her up? We'll get it organized. Sheets in the hall closet, right?" The two disappeared.  
  
Gohan said, "I've seen only glimpses of the town, but Videl will wallow in it. She loves old things, except for me. She's working on making me old. She's pregnant again." He gave his head one shake. "It's too soon."  
  
Marron exclaimed, "The town will go crazy! We don't have any babies here. It will be wonderful!"  
  
Goten said, "I think I'll look at that empty house down the street." There was the sound of the screen door opening and he added, "Well, hello, Paresu, I was just talking about you!" He went toward the front door and Paresu, both his hands out to take hers.  
  
The three looked at each other. Goten hadn't said anything about Paresu. After one meeting was he already thinking of her in that house?  
  
Realization startled Marron, who asked, "You're all going to live in Peach?"  
  
"Oh, yes," Gohan replied. This prairie will be the new Silicon Valley."  
  
Marron turned to Trunks. "It's going to be high tech?"  
  
"A beginning. We have good universities close enough. Good research and reference and problem solvers. But we're also considering the manufacturing of soft goods, and then we're investigating using this central location as a distribution center for supplies and packaged products. We're selecting the goods to be gathered, stored and distributed. We'll use the abandoned schoolhouse, and its gym, to begin with. Come into the study. Got those plans, Goten?"  
  
Goten turned from looking at Paresu and said, "Huh?"  
  
"The plans?"  
  
"Oh, yes. Right here." He looked around. "There?"  
  
All six moved into the study. Indicating Paresu, Gohan asked, "Has she been cleared?"  
  
"By me," Goten replied. Then he took Paresu's hand and smiled at her.  
  
Trunks said as he unrolled the plans on the desk, "We're going carefully. I believe this could go quite well."  
  
"Diversified, in the way we've planned." Gohan mentioned, "We can use all sorts of skills."  
  
"It's. exciting." Marron looked at Trunks with shining eyes and he smiled at her, quite pleased.  
  
"This shows how we can adapt the school to our needs."  
  
The building was a twelve-grade, consolidated school built in the anticipation of a post World War II baby boom that never actually occurred. The exodus from Peach had already begun. But it was well built, and it could lend itself well to Trunks' projects.  
  
There were one floor blue prints with very little modification. One central stairwell converted to a conveyor belt, with a lift on the outside wall at the landing for loading from or to the belt. There were new openings between two rooms, but very little else had been changed. They had the cafeteria, the lavatories, and the offices already there. It was simply a matter of adapting to the place.  
  
In the next two days as the three men worked in the study, Henko Taido miraculously kept the paperwork in tidy order. Paresu took Erasa and Videl around the town. And Marron came in with Mrs. Shougeki to help, which the lady did with enthusiasm. She planned the meals, shopped and cooked. The six residents cleaned up. Erasa and Videl saw every resident in town. They compared impressions and notes, and laughed and chattered. Videl found the house she wanted and Gohan agreed with the choice.  
  
Marron took them out to the Haven Farm pond, saying she'd asked permission from the family who lived there. But she didn't mention that she owned the farm. There they splashed and swam. So at night they went to bed early, feeling pleasantly weary and filled with the glow of accomplishment. The house was quickly silent.  
  
Marron's bed was enormous. She slept heavily, her door unlocked, but Trunks didn't come near to her. He acted as if he never had. He took her hand in his as they stood together; he kissed her in front of the others. But the kisses were chaste, and his touches were respectful, while his lion eyes smoldered and threatened.  
  
For as long as she could remember, Marron's house had always been a calm house. Until just ten days before, she'd lived there for years, quite alone. It had been quiet, serene. That was the past. There was a computer set up with its printer, and it squeaked and belled and clicked. The phone rang almost constantly, and other lines were installed. There were now phones that had buttons on them to change lines and to put people on hold and to talk to several at a time. It was all amazing. Very un- Peachlike.  
  
It was a complicated period, and even as Marron found time to work on the committee to coordinate the preparations for the Peach county fair - scheduled before the end of the month - she would listen wherever there was conversation being held, but not much of it made any sense. They said a crew was working at the school, beginning the alterations, and it would be cleaned before they moved everything out of there.  
  
Marron divided time with Erasa and Videl, and her cousin Paresu was always around. Marron could only smile tenderly over Paresu, for she was so in love with Goten. For Paresu there apparently wasn't any of the questioning or the timidity that had plagued Marron. Paresu and Goten took up their lives exactly as if they'd just been separated for a long time, knew each other perfectly and simply had diverse experiences to share. It was a marvelous thing to see.  
  
Videl and Gohan left on Wednesday morning. Videl had a book of room measurements and some soft toys Trunks had told her she'd find them displayed at the wooden-floored general store. They were made locally, and as Trunks had discovered in his initial searching out of the town, it was a cottage industry, which might be expanded. Marron decided things aren't always apparent even right under one's nose.  
  
So there weren't quite so many of them in the house when Sharpener finally came by. And he was surprised. He came to the door dressed in a casual suit with a summer tie, and he looked nice. In that setting he was pristine and excessively tidy.  
  
Marron came into the entrance hall unexpectedly, en route to somewhere. She was in shorts and a rather skimpy halter Videl had forgotten. Marron was barefooted, which had become quite normal for her. She said, "Sharpener!" as he exclaimed in some reprimand "Why. Marron!" His tone raised Trunks' hackles, and he had the feeling - if it came to it- that he could very well wipe up the floor with Sharpener. With some pirate-like swagger, he went over and put his arm around Marron in a deliberately possessive claim, which the other man could not ignore.  
  
Sharpener looked around like a visitor from some other planet who did not like where he'd landed, and he said, "Marron, I don't quite understand."  
  
In all honesty, Marron replied, "Frankly, neither do I. This is Trunks Briefs, whom I met at a county fair over in Apricot."  
  
Sharpener could not believe that. He nodded stiffly as Trunks deliberately let his ignored hand hang out there in space as he made a point.  
  
What might have happened never did, for just then Erasa Empitsu came down the stairs - wearing a short-sleeved, sea- green shirtwaist - looking like a perfectly civilized woman. As she advanced into the center hall, where the three mute mannequins were standing, Erasa said, "Hello. You're Sharpener Staedler. I'm Erasa Empitsu, Marron's chaperone." She smiled like a woman in charge.  
  
Somewhat mollified, Sharpener said, "Well."  
  
But then Trunks put in, with a lazy barroom-demolishing pirate's voice, "The preacher stuck her in here to salvage the situation and try to save this Jezebel's reputation."  
  
Sharpener gasped, but Marron laughed.  
  
Trunks then grinned at her in delight, for he'd had no idea how she would react to his outrageous statement.  
  
So Erasa agreed placidly, "Too true." Then she said to Sharpener, "Are you the son of Marka Staedler?" As she very well knew.  
  
He turned away to leave, but he hesitated. "Why, yes."  
  
I saw some of her paintings in a gallery in Pineapple City. They were magnificent!"  
  
"Really! You're very kind."  
  
Erasa flicked a quick look at Marron to judge her next move. And Marron grinned. So Erasa said, "Have you time for tea? Mrs. Shougeki has made an old-fashioned nut cake that begs for attention."  
  
"Well." He cast a cool glance at Marron. She smiled. So he said, "Why not?"  
  
"Assuredly." Erasa took his arm and led him into the dining room, where there was a cooling fan, and said, "Do take off that jacket and tie. We're quite casual here."  
  
In the hall Trunks and Marron heard Sharpener reply, "I did notice that."  
  
They heard Erasa's explanation. "It was as if lighting struck them, you know. No one can fight such instant attraction."  
  
"At a fair, did she say?"  
  
"Yes. Most romantic."  
  
"Ah. You've a romantic heart."  
  
"Never," Erasa denied. "One lump or two?"  
  
In the hall, Trunks took Marron's hand and led her into the study. Phone, computer and printer were all going. Henko Taido was a serene pool of efficiency who gave them only a glance, but Trunks took Marron to the table set up against the wall. "It will be easier when we get into the offices out at the school. I want you to see these."  
  
He lifted a covering revealing blueprints. "Can you understand blueprints?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Okay. This is a rough to show how the school building will be incorporated into an expanding unit in perhaps five years. And this is how it will be demolished and the space used for this plan in about ten years."  
  
When she had studied and compared them and understood some of it all, she said to Trunks, "I can't believe I've known you for not quite two weeks. Look at all that's happened."  
  
"There's much more that could come."  
  
"That will be good for Peach."  
  
"That's the purpose of building here. But, Marron, the town did suit. The odds will be great, and chances are it could become spectacular. That's why Shicho Machi must be involved. The town will need city planning so the expansion of Peach is controlled and supervised."  
  
"That scares me."  
  
"Why?" The word was only to encourage her to tell her fears. He worried constantly that perhaps she didn't want Peach to grow.  
  
He said, "You could become very wealthy and want to move to other places. To live the fast life."  
  
He smiled down at her and was amused. "No."  
  
"Are you. going to buy a house in Peach?"  
  
He replied very seriously. "I have a house in Peach."  
  
As happened more and more often, Trunks was called to the phone. Marron went up the stairs to her room to sit in a window. She loved Trunks, and she would marry him. He planned this amazing thing to happen in Peach, and he would need her. Her help.  
  
He needed her. She would give all she could to make this project a success. She would give both farms but not the Haven Farm. That would eventually go to her father's second family in Vladivostok. She couldn't gamble their heritage. But the other two farms were hers. She would give them as a security to any loans Trunks needed. She would go to the bank and arrange things with Mr. Ginkou. Poor Mr. Ginkou.  
  
But when she went to the bank that afternoon, and she asked not to have to endure the lecture about the Perils of Meeting Adventurers, Mr. Ginkou smiled and very easily agreed to everything. He even helped her to understand exactly what "acting as surety" entailed. After that she went to her lawyer to have a deed drawn up giving Trunks the meadow behind the school for his helicopter pad.  
  
She returned home to find Sharpener had left. Erasa called Sharpener a "fine man."  
  
The rest of the day and the next, Marron searched for the right time to be alone with Trunks. The opportunity didn't come by until late Friday afternoon. She was almost wild with frustration, but then she heard he'd gone out to the school and was alone there.  
  
Since the phones were now installed at the school, she called and suggested she bring supper. He was pleased, since he was almost through for the day. Gohan had already left for the weekend. Goten and Erasa were going to Paresu's and meeting Sharpener there. Erasa had smiled s she mentioned that and explained, "One never discards a perfectly good man. One finds a place for him. I've just met a woman from Pineapple that he should meet."  
Mrs. Shougeki divided the fried chicken into a picnic basket and added the other edibles. Marron chose wine and added a large bunch of seedless red grapes and carried them out to Emma. Then she ran up the stairs and put on the long cotton dress from the Apricot fair. She combed her hair perfectly, and in it she stuck the last two of the peacock feathers.  
  
She called the family who lived on the Haven Farm, and the people who lived on the other side to tell them she would be at the pond, they would have a small fire, and she would be careful of it.  
  
She picked up the deed and in its heavy vellum envelope, hesitated then took the Paw Prints quilt and, stepping into her moccasins, left her room. In leaving, she abandoned a kind of life she'd thought she'd always live.  
Trunks was watching for Marron from the window as she drove up the school. He saw her get out of Emma. and when he saw what she wore, his heart stilled. What was she up to?  
  
She moved quickly and was obviously nervous. She straightened her dress and moved a lovely arm up as her hand checked the back of her hair. Against the late sun he caught a glimpse of her silhouette within that cotton gown.  
  
He heard the door as she came into the building, and he stood against the window's light so his expression wouldn't betray him and spoil whatever she had planned.  
  
Her steps were silent. She simply appeared in the door, her color a little high so that her moon-skin cheeks were faintly tinted. Her blue eyes were enormous as she looked at him. She said in greeting, "Ready?" She was a little breathless. And he knew whatever she had planned, she didn't want to tell him there.  
  
His thumb moved the ring on his finger. That big lumpy ugly green stone. He kissed her in greeting, and then he said, "Come look at what we're doing." He took her hand and he showed her holes in the walls and landing windows canvas covered, and a lot of plaster dust.  
  
She saw he was pleased with the project. They went back to his office-to- be, where he had a desk and a file desk drawer. They went out of the building and got into Emma. He asked, "To the pond? Did you call for permission?"  
  
"Well, as a matter of act I did so we could be private and have a small fire. I would like you to know I own it. It's the Chestnut Haven Farm. I have two others." She looked at him. He didn't appear impressed. Had he known?  
  
She felt no qualms. No threat that he might know she could be considered an heiress. She knew he gave her his loyalty and his love, and he was no muttonhead. His plans for Peach showed great thought and planning. If he married her for her money, he would use it as well. He needed her.  
  
She had never been needed. She gave him a shy grin as she got out to open the wide, balanced wooden gate and waited for him to drive through before she closed it.  
  
They parked Emma, and because he was a careful man, he scanned the area before they carried their hamper, cooler and the Paw Prints quilt down through the trees to the pond. He was silent, waiting.  
  
"When I leased the land surrounding the Haven Farm, I reserved the pond and the area around it. We allowed the trees to grow," she said gesturing. "And it's mowed several times during the summer so the bad weeds don't flower and seed. We bought in pebbles because I hate mud, and the bottom growth is cut back."  
  
He stood alert, his eyes on her. She ached with love for him. From the basket she took a heavy vellum envelope and stood up. He watched her, knew the envelope in her hand held some meaning, and he looked into her eyes, her face quite solemn.  
  
Her voice a little uncertain but very grave, she said, "I am come to you, my lord, to petition you to marry me. I have brought a gift as a token of my dowry." She came to him to hand him the envelope.  
  
"Marron?" He questioned in wonder. He went to one knee, accepting the envelope by taking her hand and kissing it. "You will marry me?" He rose to hold her, and then he gently took the peacock feathers from her hair before he removed the pins so that the mass floated free. He moved to take her in his arms, but she stopped him and asked that he look at the deed to understand her gift of the meadow.  
  
She told him, "I pledge two of my farms to you. As surety for loans. I have begun to realize how big your dream is, and that you'll need money. I can't commit the Haven Farm. That goes to my two little half-brothers and my father's new baby out in Vladivostok. It's their heritage. You do understand that? I would give you anything. There's the house in town."  
  
"Marron." He was stunned. It hadn't occurred to him she didn't realize. "My love, I'm not marrying you for your money. I have enough. We've plenty to handle this project. We were looking fir a place. That's why I was on the road when I saw you and followed you to the fair. We had been considering such a project. Meeting you only hurried it along."  
  
She just looked at him dismayed. "Then. you don't need me?"  
  
"My Kami! Don't you know yet?" He held her almost savagely as he groaned. He kissed her then, with all restraint gone. He laid her on the Paw Prints quilt and he made love to her that was wild and filled with his need, which rent her universe and left hem spent to lie murmuring of their love.  
Eventually, they swam in the spring-fed waters, the summer light penetrating deeply to reveal her form to him and his to her. They played silently like mated otters as their sleek bodies moved in their caressing pleasure.  
  
Like Adam and Eve in a paradise, they built their small fire in the clean metal lid of an old bin, and with some ceremony they burned the last of the peacock feathers. Leisurely, they ate, with their private silent laughter. She fed him grapes as he lay with his head on her lap and hey shared their wine.  
  
Marron said, "I had never done anything like that, going off and taking up with a stranger."  
  
He replied, "I knew. But I also knew you were searching for something. You knew there was something you were missing in your life, and I knew it was I."  
  
And finally, sitting on the Paw Prints quilt, she said to him. " Can't believe you're here with me. It's like a miracle."  
  
"To me too," he said very seriously. "It was the ring," he explained with a smile. Then he added, "And the Quest."  
  
"Quest?"  
  
"When I won the magic ring, I told you I was invincible, and asked you to set me a Quest. You spoke of Peach dying. So I had to do something about that for my Love."  
  
Still amazed, she stared at him as her lips parted. But he reached for his rousers and took something from the pocket. "I just got this today. It's our logo. This one's yours.' He held out an enameled emblem on his palm. It was a large Q and inside the Q were two letters: MB. "Do you see?" He pointed it out. "The Q is for Trunks' Quest, and the MB is for Marron Briefs."  
  
She held it in her hand, realizing how long it had taken for it to be designed and enameled. How sure he had been of his love. She reached for him. "Oh, Trunks!" He gathered her to him to hold her closely for a long, cherished while, before he made love to her, there on the Paw Prints quilt. Her pirate. Her knight. Sweet, tender love.  
+++  
  
Whew! (wipes sweat from forehead) I've finally finished!  
  
More stuff to be addressed before we also live happily ever after.  
  
"Shougeki" means snack, which suited her perfectly since she was always preparing something to eat.  
  
Staedler is a famous brand name of drawing materials. Pencils, erasers, sharpeners, markers (Marka, teehee) and drawing boards. They have everything! Unfortunately, mine are lying unused here because I only get to go home to them on weekends. to eat real food. Dorm food is horrible. Even if the anime characters slurp down their instant yakisoba with gusto, you'll start avoiding it like a plague sooner or later. Mine was sooner.  
  
What else? I'm really glad you enjoyed reading this. Thank you sooooooo much! I'd give you hugs but that's a little bit difficult. :)  
  
Virtual hugs to:  
  
Bloodlust Night  
  
Lil Melfina64  
  
Araiey  
  
Aerith Gainsborough  
  
Litesea13  
  
Marron12  
  
Princess of Despair  
  
Mara-Jade-is-Vegetas-Sis  
  
BishounenChaser  
  
I won't tell  
  
Sandy  
  
Lily  
  
Kitsune  
  
Winged angel  
That's all for now. I hope I still see/read you in the other fic Helpless.  
  
Doumo arigatou gozaimasu! Mata ne! 


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